Moments of Making Love
by Mellie D
Summary: Clarisse and Joseph. Married, happy, and well...it's mature love. It's M, It's M for a reason, and if you don't like C&J lovin, then this isn't for you.
1. Champagne

Insert normal disclaimers here….I own nothing, just a muse who seems to want to lock the Queen and Joseph in the bedroom with many toys to play with - especially each other! Story is pure fluff and can be considered complete at any point in time. Chapters will be added as my muse sees fit. I'd love reviews, but if you're going to criticize, please be constructive.

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The Queen sat staring at her glass of champagne. Foreign dignitaries and heads of state prattled on around her about various affairs, and yet nothing seemed to be able to take the Queen's attention away from her glass of champagne. A rosy flush graced her skin and an unfocused gaze made her appear, to the untrained observer, that the Queen was a bit tipsy. But to her husband, the constant wetting of her lips and rapid breathing told him nothing could be farther from the truth- his blushing bride was, indeed, blushing. 

Memories of the previous night ran rampant through her mind's eye: the moonlight walk in the gardens, the dinner in the gazebo surrounded by a string quartet and dozens of candles with the sweet aroma of roses mixing with Joseph's cologne. He had arranged all of this for their three-month wedding anniversary. They shared many loving kisses on their walk, and longing glances over dinner, but nothing could have prepared her for what her husband had planned for as after dinner drinks. They had done their fair share of groping each other while engaging in savage kisses on the way from the gardens to their private suite. Joseph had swept her off her feet and carried her to bed where he thoroughly ravaged her.

If that had been all they shared the previous evening, the Queen would have been a participant in the conversations swirling around her. But it was what Joseph had done to her and for her afterwards that had the Queen in such a non-verbose manner this evening.

Being awakened by her lover's kisses, Clarisse had sighed in contentment. Her sigh gained her a pause in Joseph's ministrations to her breasts long enough to make eye contact. She felt his smile against her breast and he then continued his journey further south. First kissing her neglected breast, then the valley between, working his way down to her navel, and further south still. She groaned in frustration as he purposefully neglected the place she wanted him to touch her most, but was rewarded with gentle kisses to her inner thighs. Joseph then slid from the bed, and she watched as he walked out of their bedroom, returning moments later with a bottle of champagne and a glass.

Joseph paused beside the bed, filled the glass and handed it to Clarisse. Clarisse's curiosity piqued when, instead of crawling in bed with her, Joseph placed the bottle on the nightstand and entered the private bathing area. He returned moments later with a few towels and a devilish gleam in his eye. Clarisse offered him the glass, to which he shook his head 'no'. He moved to the opposite side of the bed, taking his pillow from the headboard and moved it to the middle of the bed. He then spread a towel over it, protecting the bed from his future plans.

"Lay here," were the first words Joseph had spoken to her since this whole seduction began. There was no doubt in Clarisse's mind- she _was_ being seduced. With little hesitation, she moved closer to her husband, her hips resting on the toweled pillow. Joseph leaned over her kissing her mouth as tenderly as he knew how, his hands gently caressing her arms. She pulled him closer to her, and he shifted his weight onto the bed so that he now straddled his wife, never breaking their oral embrace. His kisses began to move, first to the underside of her jaw, then under her ear, to the little dip in her neck. He then proceeded to her breasts, nipping at her right one, then her left, enhancing her arousal. Her eyes closed in satisfaction as her husband did the most delicious things to her breasts. He could bring her to orgasm with little more than kisses and caresses to her nipples if he was so inclined.

Clarisse's eyes opened as she felt her husband shift, as if reaching for something. She followed his outstretched arm to the neglected bottle of champagne on the nightstand. The bottle captured, Joseph moved further down the bed, kneeling in between her legs. Clarisse realized her husband's intentions as he took the bottle and gently tipped it so that some of the cool sweet liquid gathered in her belly button. Joseph then proceeded to lick her clean of the cool concoction.

The Queen's breathing became even more ragged. She could practically feel the champagne on her now. Even being surrounded by boring heads of state, all she could do was remember the contrast between Joseph's warm tongue and the cool liquid against her skin. The feeling of the chilly liquid as her poured it into her womanhood. The mini orgasms the tiny bubbles gave her as the liquid settled, followed by the extended orgasm conducted by her husband as he drank it from her sex. This elicited a groan from the Queen, one loud enough, that had anybody other than her husband been observing her, would have heard.

Her eyes cleared and looked straight into the eyes of the man who had brought her such joy last night. The man who's rampant imagination and observance of detail lead to a very interesting sex-life. She stared into his eyes a moment longer, making sure she had his full attention, then glanced at her glass of champagne as a satisfied but wicked smile graced her lips.

Her husband leaned closer and whispered into her ear, "tonight it's chocolate."


	2. Chocolate

Clarisse stared up at the ceiling of her bedroom, with a wily smile of contentment on her face. She looked over at her husband lying next to her and suddenly burst into a fit of giggles. He had chocolate smeared all over his face. Her mirth drew her husband's attention and a mock scowl. "Is that all I get from you? Laughter? After what I just did for you?"

Clarisse didn't respond. Instead, she moved to straddle his body, leaned over so that her breasts barely grazed his chest, and proceeded to lick the remaining chocolate from his face. This earned her a satisfied groan from her husband, and she felt a certain member of his anatomy perk up at her actions. She pulled back from him and arched her eyebrow mischievously. She leaned over to the nightstand and picked up the bowl of melted chocolate that her husband had used in their previous round of lovemaking.

She moved to sit on his thighs, took the bowl, and poured some of the chocolate onto his chest, taking care to cover his nipples in the sugary confection. She placed the bowl on the bed out of harm's way, and proceeded to devour her husband. She was rewarded with a low throaty moan when she swirled her tongue over his nipple and then gently nipped at it with her teeth. She looked up to see her husband had his eyes tightly shut and was clutching the bed sheets. She rewarded his other nipple with the same sweet torture, and worked her way further south to his navel. She took her time lapping up the chocolate that had gathered there.

Suddenly, her mouth was gone from his body, and Joseph opened his eyes only to find his wife spreading some of the remaining chocolate on her hands and sizing up his massive erection with her eyes. She looked into his eyes and repeated the command he had issued her earlier in the evening. "Lay back and enjoy." She took a hold of him and proceeded to cover his erection in chocolate. The last thing Joseph saw was his wife seductively licking her lips as she moved to take him into her mouth.

Joseph stared up at the ceiling of their bedroom with a wily smile of satisfaction on his face. Clarisse lay on top of him, her head on his shoulder. He gently stroked her hair, but began laughing as her hair stuck to his hand. She repeated his earlier inquiry "Is that all I get from you? Laughter? After what I just did for you?" She moved to look into his eyes, but caught a glimpse of his hand, and realized the cause of his mirth. Remnants of the sugary confection were on his hands from where he had applied the chocolate to her earlier, to put it nicely, they were a sugary mess. She attempted to sit up, but realized that they had become stuck together with the sweet confection that had been applied so generously to both of their chests. The few centimeters that she had moved had rewarded her with a tingling feeling from having their skin pull apart.

"Well, your majesty, how do you propose we get out of bed without losing any skin?" Joseph looked into his wife's amused expression. With a glint in her eye, she quickly sat up, and was rewarded with the tingling feeling from nipple to navel. One look into her husband's eyes told her that he had the same feeling. Joseph attempted to move his hand from her hip to her breast, but was impeded by the gluing effect of the sugar, his hands were simply too sticky. Clarisse took his hand with hers, guided it to her mouth, and slowly licked his finger with her tongue, mimicking what she had done for him earlier.

Joseph loved that Clarisse allowed herself to be uninhibited with him. Their lovemaking could be slow and gentle, hard and fast, tender, or seductive. No matter what the tempo, his wife seemed to enjoy every moment of it. She had even surprised him with a few ideas of her own. As he looked into his wife's loving eyes, he had the profound desire to make love to her gently and slowly. However, their sticky situation wouldn't really allow for the tenderness that he wanted to be as the tempo for their next round. He wanted to do something for his wife that would make her feel like she was bathed in his love. Joseph thought _bathed in love_ ….a warm bubble bath sounds lovely.

"Clarisse, have you ever made love in a tub?"


	3. Words

Clarisse lay in bed and heard her husband rummaging around in their adjoining bathroom. After an adventurous round of lovemaking and chocolate, Joseph had excused himself from their bed, and asked for ten minutes before his wife joined him. Remembering what he had done for her not an hour ago brought a smile to her face. She didn't think she'd ever look at chocolate fondue the same way again.

When her husband had whispered quietly in her ear his plans for the evening during the state dinner, she was sure that her face rivaled the red of the decorative flags that adorned the dining hall. What her husband could do to her with a few well-placed words was absurd. The rumble of his voice did the most delicious things to her libido, but it took one look into his eyes to know that it was the words themselves that touched her heart.

He could say something as mundane as 'good afternoon' and her knees would begin to wobble.

Had it really only been two weeks ago that the reading of his security plans had lead to an impromptu make-out session in her office? Clarisse smiled at that memory. Joseph had come to her office to discuss security for this evening's dinner, and instead of sitting at her customary desk, she asked him to join her on the sofa. She had been rather tired that day and had leaned on his shoulder as he went into detail. She had soon realized that she had completely tuned out the words he was saying, and instead, was listening to the rumbling pattern of his voice. The soft timber as it rumbled against her ear put her in a most amorous mood, and before long, she had moved from laying her head on his shoulder to sitting in his lap facing him. She had begun kissing him, and he stopped his explanations of security detail, attempting to return her kisses. She had declined and asked him to continue talking, about what she didn't care; all she wanted was to hear her husband's voice. He quoted Shakespeare while she removed his jacket, talked about his views on the new rules of Parliament as she opened his shirt, and finally was reduced to quoting the ABC's while she opened his pants and slid her hands inside.

Clarisse smiled to herself. If her husband had any doubt as to what her voice did to her, he was no longer unaware after that wonderful afternoon. Thinking of her husband, and hearing that he was no longer moving about in the bathroom, she decided he must be ready and waiting for her. She crawled out of bed and opened the bathroom door to a wonderfully romantic scene. Inside, Joseph had practically every flat surface covered in candles and was kneeling in their large tub. "Are you sure we won't set off the smoke detectors?" she joked, but received no answer from her husband, only a slight smile.

His eyes drew her to him; he had a 'come hither' stare to him that did the most delicious things to her imagination. She moved towards him and he extended a hand to assist her with getting in the tub. She began to sit in the tub, but was stopped by a kiss to her stomach and a look from her husband. He drew the bath cloth from the steaming water and stood up to face her. He brought the cloth to her face and began to gently caress her eyes, then her cheeks, then her lips, to her neck – his lips following the trail the cloth had taken moments before. Clarisse groaned in approval and then in frustration as he dipped down to the water to gather more water on the cloth.

He again placed the cloth against her body, this time beginning with her shoulders moving down towards her hands, again his lips following the cloth. Clarisse could feel the blush coming to the surface of her skin. Never had her husband done something so blatantly erotic and yet completely loving. As he made his way to her nipples she sighed his name, and received a little nip in return. It was then she realized he had yet to say a word since she had entered the bathroom. She found his silence erotic and highly ironic. Hadn't it been only a few minutes before that she had been thinking about his voice?

Clarisse was finding it very difficult to remain in the standing position. Joseph had worked his way down her left leg and was proceeding with her right one. By this time he was kneeling in the tub attending to her as if her were a servant. She wanted to make a comment about how this position must be difficult on his knees, but the phrase died on her lips as her husband chose that moment to speak to her for the first time. He had placed her foot back down in the tub and softly commanded, "spread wide for me."

She obeyed the command instantly and was rewarded with a soft kiss to her sex. She quickly grabbed onto the wall for support. Joseph held her to him as he began to work his magic against her. Even with the wall and Joseph's loving hands, she still felt as if she were swaying. She eased a hand down to his head and gently caressed his ear. He looked up at her and their eyes locked on each other. He then did something that she had never even imagined, had never even thought possible. He spoke _to_ her, _into _her the same three words that she screamed as she immediately reached her flash point. "I love you." Clarisse's world literally melted down to the reverberations of her husband's voice in her body, she could feel it caress every fiber of her being. She had never felt more loved than she did at this moment, and upon the realization that it was the one _true_ love of her life who had orchestrated these feelings, she blacked out as she climaxed again being sent over the edge again by her husband's whisper into her soul of those same three words.


	4. Afterglow

Clarisse awoke to the gentle sound of her husband's voice giving her words of reassurance while he gently caressed her back. She realized that she was laying atop her husband in their tub and that she had been crying. She sat up and Joseph's hands immediately moved to her neck, his thumbs caressing her cheeks wiping away her tears. He ever so gently brought his lips to hers and gave her the most tender of kisses she had received from him. He pulled back and gently asked, "Are you alright? You left me for a moment."

All Clarisse could do was gently nod and lean back to her husband for another kiss. How could she ever explain to him the depths to which he had touched her tonight? Even now, she could still feel his voice inside her, declaring his love. She pulled back from him and could see another question arising in his eyes. "Just hold me," was her way of answering any question he may have had. He granted her request and pulled her tight against him. He resumed his gentle caressing of her back. After several minutes she realized that the bath water was getting very cold. She must have blacked out for more than a 'moment' as Joseph had said. "Would you mind if we moved to the bed?" she whispered. By way of an answer, she head the tub suddenly begin to drain. She attempted to stand up, but her legs seemed to fail her.

With a smile from Joseph, he gently extracted himself from his wife, dried himself off with a towel, and then secured a towel for her. Again she attempted to stand, but found it difficult. He smiled at her predicament. He gently toweled her dry and picked her up from the tub, and carried her to their bed. He returned to the bathroom, blew out the candles, and returned to find her underneath the covers waiting for him. He crawled into bed with her, where she immediately draped herself across his chest, to which he immediately whispered 'my love.' This brought tears to her eyes again. Fearing that something was wrong with his wife, he voiced the question he had asked earlier. "My love, are you alright?"

"Oh Joseph. Do you know what you did to me this evening?" A chuckle arose from the chest she was laying upon. She looked up into his eyes. "You touched my soul." The humor fled from his gaze and was replaced by love and curiosity. She continued, "I've never felt this way before in my life. I feel as though you have caressed every fiber of my being tonight. That there has been a void in me that I never knew existed, and your love has filled every empty crevice in me. I never thought it possible to love you more, but now I find it impossible to love you any less than this new height. I…"

She was silenced by the gentle pressure of his lips to hers. His kiss was tender, conveying his love to her in the simplest fashion possible, and yet it was what she needed. His hands moved to her hair, gently pulling her tighter to him. She complied, and moved closer by straddling him. The continued to kiss each other, both content to let their oral link be their only means of communication. Eventually fatigue of the days events claimed her, and the last thing she heard that evening was her husband's delicate whisper, "sleep ma belle, I will hold you."

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A/N: There will be a bath scene at some point, but my muse surprised me with a more G rated chapter this morning. No worries, many more ideas pop into my head hourly. 


	5. Observation

Clarisse awoke lying atop her husband. She loved it when she awoke like this, his scent was always the first thing she detected, followed by his hard chest, and then another certain part of him that was hard in man's age-old response to morning. This morning was no exception, as she felt it swelling beneath her, which meant her husband wouldn't be asleep much longer. She shifted so that she could look at his face and observe his last few moments of sleep. She gently traced his ear with her fingernail, and then lovingly traced his eyebrow with her thumb. A smile emerged on her lips as she remembered the last time she had awakened in the same position. It had been some two weeks prior to this morning that her husband had held her all night. When he had asked her if she ever made love in a tub, she had no idea what her husband had had in mind. She had assumed that they would wash each other as a means of foreplay and then make love, similarly to how they had made love together in the shower a few times. When she mentioned this to Joseph, he confessed that his plan had been similar to her description, but she had inspired him beyond his initial plan.

She continued to trace the lines on his face, her thumb moving to caress his lips. She loved that she was able to observe and study him without the fear of being caught. During the first few months of their courtship, she would often have to quickly divert her gaze from him when Charlotte or any other member of her staff approached. She smiled as she remembered the first time of being "caught" with Joseph. It had been the Christmas Eve after returning from meeting Mia. The annual ball at the palace had been a huge success and Joseph had escorted her back through the ballroom out onto the balcony after she had bid everyone farewell as they left. It had begun to snow lightly, and Joseph had kissed her as a means of 'tasting the snow' that had landed upon her lips. The kiss itself had been one of the most sensual feelings she'd ever had, until they had been interrupted by a loud crash. Charlotte had apparently been trying to discreetly leave after discovering them on the balcony, but had tripped over a poinsettia that had decorated the ballroom. Charlotte had been mortified that she had breached her Queen's secret, but Clarisse had been somewhat relieved with the incident. She had been tired of trying to sneak in dates with Joseph past Charlotte, and had been struggling with how to tell her trusty aide about her budding romance. She could trust Charlotte to be the epitome of digression, especially when it came to arranging dinners with Joseph.

She again looked down at her husband, and feeling his response to morning getting stronger, she decided to take advantage of their situation. She lifted herself off of him as she whispered his name. His eyes opened and looked straight into hers, as smile coming to his lips. She was rewarded with a whisper of her name that quickly turned into a groan as she returned her body against his, taking him inside her. She sat up and stretched her body, arching her back, and groaning in delight as the visual had a wonderful effect on the part of her husband that was nestled inside of her. She looked at him and arched her eyebrow in question, to which he responded with the same gesture.

He sat up and took a breast into his mouth as his hands moved to her hips and slowly began to rock her against him. She gave a sigh of approval to his plans. As she began to increase the tempo, she discovered that Joseph was having a hard time trying to maintain his sitting position while tending to her. They had not made love in this position very often, and the few times they had, he had always been flat on his back. She discovered that she liked having his mouth tending to her and came up with an idea. She whispered, "move up to the headboard." He slipped out of her and moved so that his back was against the headboard, and she immediately reclaimed him inside of her as she straddled him again. He latched back on to the nipple he had been attending to as she began her rocking motions again. The headboard made a slight knocking noise at it hit the wall from her movements, but neither of them noticed it or the knock on the door. Joseph's hands returned to her hips to help her increase the tempo. They continued at this pace, but it still wasn't enough. With a devilish gleam in her eye, Clarisse planted her feet onto the mattress and leaned forward slightly to grab onto the headboard. This gave her the added leverage she needed to really increase the tempo, they both groaned in delight.

Charlotte knew the minute that she began hearing the repeated banging of the headboard against the wall that she had chosen the wrong time to bring in the breakfast tray. When she had knocked, she hadn't gotten an answer, but really wasn't surprised. Most mornings she would knock, not receive an answer, and would proceed to bring in the breakfast tray and the Queen's schedule for the day. The door to the bedroom was always shut for privacy purposes and Charlotte would open the drapes to the rest of the suite, turn on the lights, and then leave to be summoned when the Queen was ready to start her day. This morning had been no exception; she had knocked, entered the room depositing the breakfast trays and then proceeded to open the drapes, never noticing the open door to the bedroom. She had just opened the first drape when she heard what were unmistakably satisfied groans from Joseph and Clarisse and the banging of the headboard. That was when she noticed the door to the bedroom. This morning it wasn't shut, and she had no idea what to do. She knew she should leave, but would have to cross in front of the door to make her exit and she didn't want to draw attention to herself.

As the banging of the headboard became faster she desperately looked for another escape from the room. She looked at the door to the hall once again, then back to the bedroom door, maybe she could run past it quickly and escape, but decided that was impossible. Both of the double doors to the bedroom were open, and to try and slip past them would be too risky. The groaning from the bedroom got louder, and she let out a small groan of frustration, and then quickly covered her mouth hoping she hadn't been heard. Judging from the noises she continued to hear, she hadn't. Her eyes continued to search the room for another escape route and spied the entrance to the balcony. It was pouring rain, but at the moment, she didn't care. It was a way out! She frantically ran to the door, unlocked it, and made her escape just as she heard the Queen growl "oh Joseph".

Safely out on the balcony, Charlotte was thankful for the rain. It was cool enough so that the flushed embarrassment on her cheeks was quickly replaced with her normal white coloring. Charlotte quickly descended the stairs out into the garden and returned into the palace from another entrance. She was soaked from head to toe, and stood dripping wet in the entrance to the grand ballroom. She looked around and was struck with an ironic thought. Nearly five years ago this had been the same location of where she discovered the Queen and Joseph kissing, and now it was her point of refuge from the more intimate glimpse she got of their love affair this morning. She had to laugh at the irony that she had unfortunately made her presence known that evening with a moment of clumsiness, but had not been discovered this morning. Charlotte quickly made her way back to her room to change into drier clothes, leaving a puddle to be discovered later by a keen observer.


	6. Transition

"You know, you've completely ruined my reputation." Joseph gave a slight chuckle at his wife's observation. "Rupert and I were _never_ like this, even on our honeymoon!" This made him laugh whole-heartedly. He pulled his wife impossibly closer to him and kissed her forehead. They were lying in their bed after a rather passionate afternoon tryst that he had initiated.

"Is this your way of asking me to stop?" her murmured against her hair. His hand moved from caressing her back to gently skimming down her side, making sure her gave the faintest caress to her breast. He knew what her answer would be before she even made it. He just loved to tease her sometimes.

She moaned, "don't you dare." She kissed him on his lips, and then reclaimed his shoulder as her pillow. It really was quite amazing to her that she could love someone so passionately. She and Rupert had loved each other, or so she thought, when they were married. They had a great respect for one another, genuinely cared about each other, and were the best of friends. She honestly thought that's what love was. It was only years later, after her husband's death, that Joseph showed her the flaws in her thinking. Her love for Joseph was all consuming, toe-curling, madly passionate.

While they had courted for a few years, Joseph had acquiesced to her wishes that for all intents and purposes, outside of the castle they appear as nothing more than Queen and security guard. Even in the palace, she tried to keep that façade, but on occasion she would return his affections. Usually it would be in response to a compliment, or a walk around the garden where she would see him not as a guard, but as a man. But when they were in private, and truly alone – she became Clarisse. Not the Queen, not her royal highness, but Clarisse – a woman in love. She would allow him to hold her, kiss her, give her comfort, but it was always with an undertone of restraint. That was, until her honeymoon.

Joseph had arranged for them to get away for two weeks about a month into their marriage. He had taken her to the south of France to a very secluded resort. So secluded that guest rooms were at a minimum three hundred yards apart. That seclusion would prove to be very beneficial. While at the palace for the first month of their marriage, there was still an undercurrent of the ever-refined queen. Their wedding night had been just what Clarisse had expected – nice, but quiet. Much like her wedding with Rupert. The constant presence of guards, footmen, maids, and various other personnel didn't allow for much affection. That had been the tone for their first month of marriage – occasionally making love, but only in the very early hours of the morning or very late at night when Clarisse was sure that most people were asleep. She still just didn't feel comfortable with people knowing that she had a new husband, which undoubtedly meant she had sex.

That was, until her honeymoon. They had only left their room twice, and both times returned within two hours. Joseph had carried her into their little bungalow, up to their room, and deposited her on the bed. She had been a little shocked that he had wanted to make love during the day; she didn't think she'd ever done that. Joseph had said something about showing her how to truly make love, and proceeded to make good on his intentions. She smiled remembering that that was the first time she had experienced and orgasm. She thought she had many times before, even with Joseph, but she obviously had been mistaken. He had begun by taking his time in pleasuring her, something that he had tried to do often, but she always just felt so cloistered and wanted to be threw with the whole act as quickly as possible. It just wouldn't do for the Queen to be needed while she was having sex. She knew that these attitudes had put Joseph off slightly, but hoped that he would understand. It was after their second time of making love at the palace that he had suggested the honeymoon. She hadn't really seen a need for it, but he had insisted. He said that he wanted to take her somewhere that she could release her inhibitions.

That had proven to be the most difficult part of making love, to release her always in command presence. But she tried, and for some reason when Joseph whispered 'there's no one around but us', it had been the key to unlock that floodgate. He was correct, they were the only ones around, and she didn't have to be a Queen, or a royal highness, or even a wife. All she had to do was be a woman in love. They made love slowly that afternoon, only reaching the climax after hours of foreplay. Clarisse still couldn't believe the force at which her orgasm hit her – or even what it was.

In the afterglow of their lovemaking, she had confessed to Joseph that she was shocked by what had happened. He had kissed her forehead and chuckled "now you know why I wanted to take you away somewhere, to show you what we were missing." It had embarrassed her a bit that she had thought their lovemaking had been 'quite good' for the first month, while Joseph obviously thought it hadn't. But he had assured her that it had been good, but he knew it could be great. She guessed he was just trying to make her feel better, but decided not to pursue the point. Besides, if this is what lovemaking really was, she definitely wanted to continue her lessons. They had joked that Mia had received "Queen Lessons" while Joseph gave her "Queen's Lessons."

They stayed in bed the rest of the first day of their honeymoon, only leaving once to answer the door to room service they had ordered. That was the beginning of Clarisse's transition from "Queen of Genovia" to "Queen of the Sheets" as Joseph liked to affectionately call her. It was a slightly embarrassing nickname, but she secretly loved it. It made her feel as though her Queen's Lessons had done some good.

Clarisse chuckled; 'good' didn't even begin to describe it. As Joseph's hands continued to rub her back, her mind returned to the present. She loved the feel of his fingers lightly skimming along her back, but wanted him to continue his caresses elsewhere. "Joseph? I think I need a refresher course in one of my lessons." Her hands gently caressed his chest as she said this. Clarisse had expected some sort of verbal reply from her husband, not the swift rolling of their bodies so that she was lying with her back to the mattress. She gave a yelp of surprise at his playfulness, and then gave a moan of delight as she showed her exactly what he could do with his hands.

A/N: Not "G" and not quite "M" How about "T" for Transition? I wanted to show how "our" Clarisse on the screen could be the woman I've made her out to be in this story. But one day on a honeymoon won't do it; we may have to visit them a lot while they're in the south of France to understand her change.


	7. Picnic

Clarisse jumped slightly as her husband's arms embraced her from behind. She stood on her balcony looking out into the garden. It was early fall and there wasn't much color to it. This time of year always depressed her – it was too early for the leaves to change, and it was much too late for summer flowers. Everything seemed to be rather dull, including her garden. As her husband kissed the back of her neck she made one concession – not _everything_ was dull. Her husband was definitely full of life; point in fact by the question he asked her. "I have a surprise for you, are you free?"

She turned in his arms and looked up at him mischievously, "what did you have in mind?"

"A picnic." That simple answer delighted her to no end. She had come out on her balcony to get away from work. It had helped some, but she still had the urge to be rid of the palace for a little while. She hadn't been able to shake a restless feeling all week. Joseph saw his wife's eyes light up at his suggestion. "I have a change of clothes laid out for you on the bed, if you're interested." He was rewarded with a quick peck on the lips and a promise that she would be back in a few minutes.

Twenty-five minutes later they were nestled beneath a large oak tree on a blanket, Joseph with his back to the tree and Clarisse in Joseph's lap. She was amazed at Joseph's picnic. He had obviously planned in advance. They had arrived to a chilled bottle of wine and an assortment of fruits, cheeses, and finger sandwiches. Clarisse was attempting to open the bottle of wine, while Joseph was attempting to discretely open his wife's summer dress while kissing her neck. His actions were making hers decidedly more difficult. When he reached the third button, she finally relented and gently pulled his hands from their task to the bottle of wine saying, "Open this instead."

As Joseph made steady work on the wine bottle, Clarisse leaned back against him. He certainly had been in an affectionate mood this week. This morning made the eighth time they had made love since the weekend, and it was only Wednesday! She wondered why this week he had been overly attentive to anything she desired. Even in their first few years of marriage Rupert had never thought to wake her up in the middle of the night just to know what kind of perfume she was wearing. Then suddenly she realized Joseph's motives – tomorrow would have been her wedding anniversary to Rupert. She didn't know how it had slipped her mind. In the six years since his death, she had always remembered their anniversary and mourned his loss again. As Joseph handed her a glass, she moved to sit next to him.

Joseph noticed a slight change in his wife and looked at her. He could see the sorrow in her eyes and knew immediately that she had guessed the reason for his affections. Sometimes he wondered how they could know each other so well and carry on a conversation by only looking at each other. He gave his wife a sad smile, to which she raised her glass in a silent salute to her deceased husband and took a sip. She rested her head on Joseph's shoulder. He kissed her forehead and then proceeded to fill a plate for her.

They ate in silence for a while, and Clarisse felt a bit guilty. She was supposed to be enjoying a delightful afternoon with her husband and all she could do was think about Rupert. It was Joseph who finally broke the silence. "He will always be a part of you Clarisse." She looked into his eyes, as if asking him to continue. "He's the father of your children, your husband of over forty years, your king, and your friend. It's natural to miss him."

He almost didn't hear her whisper, "but I feel as if I'm being unfaithful to you." He put his food down and wrapped his wife in his arms. "My darling – I saw how you nurtured him the last years of his life. I was there for you to cry on when you realized he was dieing, I was there when you decided that Genovia would never see the king sick, I was there when you needed a shoulder to cry on, and my dear those are some of the qualities that made me fall in love with you. You're so caring and loving, and you put everybody else's needs in front of your own. It's what made you a wonderful queen, wife, and mother. I'm just blessed that you've decided to share the rest of your life with me."

Joseph knew his wife was crying and assumed it was because she was reliving the emotions of Rupert's death. What he wasn't prepared for was the gentle kiss to his neck followed by a gentile kiss to his jaw, then his cheek, then a rather passionate one to his mouth. Her tongue gently brushed against his lips begging for admittance into his mouth, as she shifted in his arms so that she was now facing him slightly. He opened his mouth to her and gently pulled her against him.

Clarisse had been so moved by Joseph's understanding of her feelings. She knew that she was truly blessed to have this man as her husband. It was his confession of falling in love with her in her time of need that had touched her heart. As he had fallen in love with her during those times, it had been those tender moments that made her realize how truly special Joseph was. She had not realized at the time what her feelings were towards him, but she had known that she had found a very special friend.

As his kisses became more insistent, she pulled him to her as she lay back on the blanket. Her fingers began working on his shirt and he wanted to make light work of her dress, but knew that they were not in the most private of areas. As she began kissing his chest, he found it hard to speak. "My darling, we're not in the most discreet of locations." She gently nipped him then rolled them over so that she was in the dominant position.

She surprised herself with the response of "It doesn't matter." She began unbuttoning her dress, but the tiny buttons were taking too long. Instead, she reached down, grabbed the hem of her dress, and flung it off, not caring where it landed. She then proceeded to make light work of her undergarments, and then of Joseph's clothes. As she lay back on the blanket with Joseph looking down on her, a phrase kept running through her mind. Yes, this was definitely making love. Her husband had given her the most earnest of confessions and she had wanted to express her gratitude and love for him. As he slowly sank into her, she knew that her former wedding anniversary would no longer be a source of sorrow, but rather a source of strength and love.

A while later, they were again nestled beneath a large oak tree on a blanket, Joseph with his back to the tree and Clarisse in Joseph's lap. Clarisse was attempting to open the container of fruit, while Joseph was attempting to button his wife's summer dress while kissing her neck. A small chuckle arose from her. "Can you believe we just did _that_ out here?" Joseph also chuckled. She continued, "can you imagine if Charlotte had needed me for something, only to come out here and find us in the throes of passion?" She continued to laugh, but noticed that her husband didn't share her merriment.

"It wouldn't be the first time" was his quiet reply.

XXXXXXXXXX

Yes, I am stopping here. Work will be insanely busy this week, so you'll just have to wait for the weekend. I wanted to give something a little tender, and something a little naughty. And then to be cruel…I'm not telling you Clarisse's reaction until next time.


	8. I spy

Later, they were again nestled beneath a large oak tree on a blanket, Joseph with his back to the tree and Clarisse in Joseph's lap. Clarisse was attempting to open the container of fruit, while Joseph was attempting to button his wife's summer dress while kissing her neck. A small chuckle arose from her. "Can you believe we just did _that_ out here?" Joseph also chuckled. She continued, "can you imagine if Charlotte had needed me for something, only to come out here and find us in the throes of passion?" She continued to laugh, but noticed that her husband didn't share her merriment.

"It wouldn't be the first time" was his quiet reply.

Clarisse's fingers faltered from attempting to open the container of fruit. Had she heard her husband correctly? She turned to look at him and saw that he wasn't joking. A very soft mild voice squeaked out of her. "What?"

"Yes, my dear. It appears that Charlotte has found us shall we say – incommunicado -before."

Clarisse searched her husband's eyes for an explanation. When she saw that one wasn't forth coming, she took a very large sip of wine and tried to casually ask "when?"

"Last week it seems." He let the words be digested by his wife. He could see her thinking about Charlotte and how she could have discovered them. He placed a kiss to her head and pulled her back against his chest. "Yes, my dear. It seems that when you decided to give me a morning exercise routine last week, you gave Charlotte quite a workout." He chuckled.

"what…..what do you mean?" Clarisse couldn't believe what her husband was telling her. Her trusty assistant had seen her making love with Joseph? She knew Charlotte had been a bit distant lately, but guessed it was something that was better left not discussed. _Not discussed_ Ha! She was mortified, and could guess that Charlotte was feeling about the same way. She vaguely heard her husband fill her in on the details.

"… ran all the way from our balcony to the ballroom in the pouring rain."

"How do you know?" She was curious. Then an awful thought crossed her mind: "she didn't _tell_ you did she?"

"No, my dear. I saw it all on the security cameras. The puddle in the ballroom piqued my curiosity and I just back-tracked from there." He kissed her head again. "My dear, I think we better pack up, or we will also wind up in a similar situation as your trusty aide. I do believe it's going to rain."

Clarisse looked to the sky and indeed saw the storm clouds rolling in. They hurriedly gathered their picnic items and blanket and began walking quickly back to the palace. As they felt the first few raindrops on them Clarisse heard her husband say, "The best laid plans are of mice and men. I wanted to share the sunset with you." She looked at him and smiled – but it wasn't one that reached her eyes.

As they approached the garden, the heavens opened up and poured heavy raindrops on them. Joseph quickened their pace to the doors, and was surprised that Clarisse hadn't followed him. He turned and could see the hesitancy in her eyes – she didn't know how to face Charlotte. He smiled to himself. Whether it was the look of uncertainty or the fact that she was now drenched – he was drawn to her. She reminded him of a lost puppy-something that desperately wanted to go inside, even if into the unknown, but was held back by the security of the known outside world. He placed the basket at the door and returned to his wife and took her into his arms.

Clarisse was a bit surprised by her husband's actions. The look on his face as he had embraced her was that of a protector. She definitely felt protected right now – and would rely upon his strength to be able to walk through the door. But, she just couldn't bring herself to face Charlotte, not yet. She pulled back and looked at Joseph, silently asking for strength. Her heart fluttered as he took her hands in his and whispered, "come my love" as he tugged on her hands back towards the garden.


	9. Rain

Joseph lead her further into the gardens, and despite the rain, she truly wanted to be out here with her husband. As they reached "their spot" the large bench nestled deep within the garden, he turned slowly and brought her to him. He took her into his arms and softly began to hum into her hair, then swayed them to his music.

Clarisse's heart soared as her husband danced with her. She was nestled in the crook of his neck, their entwined hands resting high against his shoulder. As they swayed she began to think about all of the revelations she had today. The first thought was that in less than five hours, it would be her anniversary with Rupert. Would it really have been her 46th anniversary? She marveled at how fast time seemed to slip by. It felt like only yesterday Rupert had proposed to her, just this morning that her sons were born, and only minutes ago that she met Mia. She sighed heavily. Mia had grown into a lovely young woman, and was doing a fine job of being Queen. She made her own decisions, fought her own battles, and yet made sure that she included her grandmother in everything. Not that Mia needed the re-assurance, but rather to make Clarisse still feel useful. Clarisse smiled, she was sure that Charlotte had _something_ to do with including Clarisse in Mia's everyday work. She stiffened at the thought of Charlotte.

Joseph felt his wife tense, but continued to sway them to the rhythm of the rain. He knew that his wife had a few issues to work through before she faced anybody this evening. He had planned the picnic as a small retreat, and didn't mean to get so carried away. That brought a smile to his face and he gently shook his head in wonder. Was it really Clarisse who had decided that they would make love for the entire world to see? This was the woman who, after declaring their love for one another, hastened at the thought displaying affection in public – including the palace. The woman who had insisted that on their wedding night that they be quiet and wait until late in the evening. She certainly had changed over the last few months. The honeymoon to France had _definitely_ been a good idea. It had loosened her up immensely.

Clarisse was lost in her thoughts. How could she face Charlotte? She admitted to herself, she didn't know if she could. How do you apologize for making love with your husband? As her husband continued to sway, she could feel his hard body softly rubbing against hers and realized she couldn't apologize for making love with him. How could any woman resist him? He had a rock hard body; was quiet, yet insightful; had a smile that could make her knees melt; and had a gorgeous head. She giggled to herself. That was something about Joseph that was _definitely _a turn on for her. Rupert had thick luscious hair that, for some reason, always struck her as exuding power. But there was something very unpretentious about Joseph's baldhead. She loved that she could lean over and kiss him and not have to fight hair, that when she ran her fingernail over just the right spot he blushed, and she bashfully admitted to herself, she loved how it felt as he rubbed his head against her. She couldn't apologize for loving her husband, but she could apologize for not shutting the door. It would be difficult, but she had to smooth things over with Charlotte before they festered too long. As Clarisse began to really relax against her husband, she realized what he was singing to her, "someone to watch over me." She thought to herself 'how appropriate.' She pulled back to look into her husband's loving gaze. It was then she realized that it was still raining. She couldn't believe that they had been out here all this time dancing in the rain and she hadn't even noticed. She gave Joseph a small peck on the lips and whispered "thank you."

She turned to lead him back out of the garden, but was halted by the gentle tug of his hand. She turned around to look at him, and was surprised at the look of pure lust in his gaze. She wondered why, but soon had her answer as his eyes swept over her body. She looked down and noticed that the light blue sundress that she had on had become practically transparent in the rain. After their round of love making earlier, she had decided to forgo her bra, and as she noticed, her nipples were standing at full attention thanks to the cold rain. She began to laugh nervously, but was cut off by her husband's lips firmly pressing against hers. His lips were hard and firm and she felt his tongue begging for admittance. She quickly granted it, and felt his hands pull her impossibly closer as he continued to plunder her mouth. She marveled at his passion, and was surprised when she shifted and felt his motivation pulsing against her thigh. She moaned into his mouth and wrapped her hands around his neck. As one hand held her to him, his other hand came around to caress her breast. She groaned her approval and moved her hand up to his scalp and gently scraped her fingernail along his hairline.

At the caress of her fingers to his scalp, Joseph broke himself from his impassioned embrace with his wife. The sight of her rapidly breathing while her bosom quickly rose and fell was too much. His mouth spoke before his mind even registered his plea. "I want you, now."

Clarisse was a bit startled at her husband's request, but was too aroused to deny him anything. In lieu of an answer, she tugged him to the bench that was just behind her, rejoining their lips in the ferocious battle they had been engaging in earlier. As they sat, she began working on the belt to his trousers, and he began working on the buttons to her dress. She had his belt off, and unzipped his fly, and let her hand wander inside. Joseph had had trouble with the tiny buttons of his wife's dress earlier, and now with them being wet and with her caressing his manhood, unbuttoning her dress was impossible. In the heat of the moment, he took a side of her dress in each hand and yanked hard. Tiny buttons flew everywhere, and Clarisse stopped her ministrations to his manhood. Joseph was too aroused to notice the look of shock on his wife's face. He laid her back on the bench and crawled over her, returning his lips to hers.

As Joseph's kisses moved from her lips down to her breasts, Clarisse was practically on fire. Her hands caressed his head, and as her nail caressed that certain spot, he gently bit her. She moaned in approval as he moved to her other breast. Clarisse was burning up inside, but the cool splashes of water against her skin did nothing to put out that fire. She began working on his pants as she felt him fumbling with her panties. She only kissed him harder as she felt a slight tug and heard the distinct rip of fabric.

They made love there beneath the rain, on a bench nestled in the garden. Lightning gave way to flashes of heat as they drove each other on. Claps of thunder obscured their feral screams of climax. The rain washed the tell tale crimson blush of their passion from their bodies. Their return into the palace was unheralded as they quietly slipped into their private room. The evidence of their brazen afternoon of lovemaking had all been erased by nature… or so they thought.


	10. Discoveries

Mia sat in the kitchen nursing a cup of coffee. Sometimes, she really hated being queen and having to be responsible. Today was one of those days. She smiled to herself and though –not today, just this morning, or rather any morning that started before nine. Mia thought about how her grandmother constantly teased her that she spent 'all morning in bed'. Nine a.m. wasn't 'all morning' it was barely even mid-morning! Mia scoffed.

It was an hour before sunrise and she was already "on duty." This morning she would release doves into the air at sunrise, signifying 275 years of freedom from France. A symbol of the first day of the battle that led to the dawning of a free Genovia – or at least that's what Charlotte had said. She had thought to herself – so what was Genovian Independence Day for? – but decided to research it rather than ask a stupid question. She was Queen, which meant she should know the difference. As much as she loved being queen and as much as she loved Genovia – did she have to love it at sunrise? What good could come of being up before sunrise that couldn't happen if you started your day at 9?

She had wanted to ask her grandmother to join her for the celebration, and was surprised when Charlotte had told her it was best not to ask her. Charlotte had then proceeded to explain that, although it was a wonderful day for Genovia, it had also been her grandmother's wedding anniversary. Mia couldn't imagine having to get up _this_ early to release birds and then proceed to get married. She had every intention of releasing the birds, saying a few words, and then returning into the palace and to her bed. She stared at her empty cup of coffee and thought that she definitely needed more, and soon.

Carlos walked into the kitchen with a rather wet looking picnic basket, which mildly piqued Mia's curiosity. With a mumbled "hello" to him she got up to refill her cup. He had placed the basket on the counter and began unloading it, all while whistling a happy tune. She rolled her eyes – no one should be _that_ chipper at five am. Coffee or no coffee – there were some things that she knew she'd never be, and awake and happy before "Eggs with Elsie" had been _off_ TV for at least an hour was one of them. That was another chipper person she couldn't stand – Elsie Kentworthy and her sunny side up attitude. She looked at her now full coffee cup and thought – maybe I need an espresso?

As Mia went over the list in her head of other things that shouldn't go on before sunrise, she had made her way over to the basket and began looking into it. Everything looked like a garden hose had been taken to it. She asked Carlos what it was, and had gotten the reply that it had been requested by Joseph yesterday for a little surprise for his wife. When asked why it was wet, Carlos said that he had happened to discover it this morning on his way in from his morning jog and he assumed that Joseph accidentally left it outside when the storm rolled in. Mia rolled her eyes. Not only was the man chipper in the morning – she guessed he had been up since at least four if he jogged.

As Carlos made his way into the pantry, Mia began to rifle through the basket. She pulled out an empty bottle of wine, containers that held fruit, napkins, and then she paused. Her hand touched something that was _very_ silky – much too silky to be a napkin. She cautiously peered over the rim of the basket and her eyes went wide. She let out a small gasp of "oh my" and a startled cry of "grandma!" when she realized what she had found. Carlos returned to the kitchen and asked if everything was ok. Mia kept her discovery hidden in the basket and assured him that everything was just fine.

She could tell that he didn't really believe her, but she put on the best smile she could as she tried to cover her shock. Carlos took the items that Mia had taken out of the basket and began putting them up. Mia looked to Carlos then looked to the basket. She kept her eyes on him as she gently took her discovery and put it into the pocket of her robe. She continued to empty out the basket in hopes of finding more interesting items with which she could harass her grandmother, but turned up nothing. She quickly bid her farewells to Carlos and headed back to her suite to get dressed. As she closed the door to her room, she chuckled to herself – maybe there was some good in getting up before sunrise.

* * *

­­­Possible ending here…but I won't leave you hanging, keep reading

* * *

As Mia returned from releasing the doves, she looked to her grandmother's suite, and noticed that the light was on. 'Well, no time like the present' she thought. She was amazed that after only one and a half cups of coffee she really was quite awake. Maybe it was the joy she had knowing that she could really harass her grandmother. She quickly went to her suite, moved the item from her robe to the pocket of her suit, and headed towards her grandmother's suite.

She knocked on the door, and after a few moments was granted a "come" by her grandmother. She entered the room and noted that her grandmother was clad in her robe and was pouring a cup of tea. She also noted that her grandmother was clad _only_ in her robe and had a distinct flush to her skin. Mia smiled, her grandmother really was happy with Joe. Thinking of Joe – she noted that he was absent from the room and the doors to their bedroom were shut. Maybe he was sleeping. But as she observed her grandmother, she noticed that she appeared rather nervous. She kept pushing her hair behind her ears and had talked non-stop since Mia entered the room. Mia thought to herself 'yep, I definitely interrupted something.'

As her grandmother made her way to the phone to place an order for breakfast, Mia decided to test her theory on her picnic basket surprise. She quickly took the silky garment from her pocket and draped it across the back cushions of the couch – so that it was clearly visible to Clarisse – yet not visible to Mia if she remained standing at the door. She went over to the small table next to her and feigned interest in the pictures as her grandmother finished her conversation.

Clarisse turned to continue talking with her granddaughter and made a horrific discovery. There, perched on the back of the couch was her wayward garment from yesterday. She noticed that Mia was again looking at her pictures from various events and quickly made her way over to the couch. She snagged it up and placed it into her robe pocket and then proceeded to sit in the chair facing the couch, fully expecting Mia to join her.

Hearing her grandmother take a seat, Mia turned and nonchalantly moved to sit on the couch. She had to stifle a giggle as she heard her grandmother give a huge sigh of relief. Mia began talking about the various events for the week, notably the dinner tomorrow night and the ball that would be Saturday night. Mia noticed that her grandmother kept glancing at the door to her bedroom and decided that it might be best if she left. She didn't want to see any more details from her grandmother's love life. As she bid her grandmother goodbye, she couldn't resist letting her grandmother in on her little secret. As Clarisse opened the door to her bedroom, Mia said "Thank you for your input grandma. Oh and by the way, I like the color of the bra you're hiding." She gave her grandmother an impish grin, and closed the door to her suite.

­­­­

* * *

Ok, just a little bit more, but then that's it (for tonight anyway)

* * *

Clarisse was mortified. Her hand went to grasp the bra she had stuffed in her pocket and held it out for her husband to see. "Do you know where I found this?" She asked incredulously.

He grinned. He recognized it as her bra from yesterday afternoon – the one that had mercifully been missing last night in the rain. "My guess is somewhere between here and the oak tree, my love." He mad no move to get out of bed, and that only raised her ire.

"It was on the back of the couch! I've told you we need to be more careful where we make love!" She recalled how he had pulled her inside from the rain last night and proceeded to strip her of her wet clothing there in the sitting area. They had made love again, only this time by the light of the moon on the couch. That had been in a rather heated necking session this morning when Mia had knocked on the door. She and Joseph had quickly picked up their clothes from the floor, and he had retreated to the bedroom to hide his "at attention" state. Apparently they had missed her bra.

This made Joseph laugh out loud. His wife had forgotten her slightly commando state last night in the garden. He decided to educate her. "Dear, I do believe that your cunning little granddaughter planted that on you. If you will remember, you didn't put it back on yesterday afternoon." He laughed and continued. "If memory serves me correctly, you said something about saving me from the hassle of removing it later." He moved from the bed to his wife. He lowered his voice, "and dear, it is later." He played with the sash on her robe. "and it would save me time this morning." He opened her robe, "and if you remember, we were right in the middle of this…." He kissed her deeply. His hands moved inside her robe to cup her full breasts. She moaned into his mouth, and he pulled her closer. He continued his assault on her mouth, and she felt his motivation stiff against her belly. She began working on his robe. As his hands shoved the robe off of her shoulders, she reluctantly let go of her husband to assist in its removal. He looked into her eyes, and when he saw that he had her full attention he continued. "Shall we continue _this_ conversation in the bed, or the one about your granddaughter's trick in the sitting area?" She looked at the clock and noted that it said seven then looked at her husband. She bit her lower lip in consideration and then tugged off her husband's robe. She looked down at his rock-hard body and thought 'maybe I could spend the morning in bed, my first appointment isn't until ten.'

She canceled that appointment later, and barely made it to her lunch meeting at noon. She definitely enjoyed continuing conversations with her husband in bed.


	11. Confessions

Members of Parliament, the Prime Minister, the Archbishop, and various other heads of state were all in attendance of the Great Genovian Battle Celebratory Dinner. To Mia, it was just another excuse to have a state dinner and dress up. Not that she minded having an excuse to wear the crown jewels, but still – how many official dinners did the Queen have to attend in one year? Since taking the throne a little over four moths ago, this made her 32nd official state dinner. She looked over at her grandmother and Joseph who were just to her right. She could not remember seeing her grandmother ever looking happier than she had these last four months. Marriage definitely agreed with her. Mia noticed that Joseph's hand discreetly disappeared from view on the table; then she noticed her grandmother twitch. She raised her eyebrows at this. Ok, finding her grandmother's bra in a picnic basket had been funny – but she definitely didn't need to see the beginning of what was obviously a seduction between the two of them. She turned to the Archbishop on her left and began talking about the renovations to the sanctuary of the church.

Clarisse jumped at the sensation of her husband's hand on her knee. She looked over at him, and noticed that he was talking to the head of the Genovian police force. Clarisse began to wonder if he even knew that he had placed his hand on her, and then her musings stopped. His thumb began gently moving back and forth in a small caress as he turned to her asking her opinion on the use of secret service. The head of the police had wondered why the queen needed so many secret service when out in a crowd, when police were clearly present at all times. Knowing that her husband was partial to the secret service, they had asked for her unbiased opinion. As she began explaining that, although having the police out in force, they were concerned more about the safety of the crowd and those in the crowd. Whereas her secret service were more concerned about potential dangers _from_ the crowd. Her husband's hand moved higher up her thigh as she began reiterating his point that the secret service only served the Queen and that by doing so, they in turn, served the country.

Clarisse noted that the head of police appeared appeased by this answer as he and Joseph resumed their conversation. She was glad, because as she had finished, her husband's hand had moved from caressing the top of her thigh to caressing the inner portion. She couldn't believe that he was practically feeling her up in a very public setting, and what's more – she was letting him! She didn't know what had possessed her to wear a knee-length dress this evening versus the normal full-length formal wear, but at the moment, she was thanking the heavens that she had. Her right hand discreetly slipped under the table to her lap. She brushed it against Joseph's arm and he looked at her. Realizing she had his attention, she decided to live a little dangerously. She placed her hand over his, gently grasped his fingers, and moved his hand higher on her thigh, all the while staring him straight in the eye. He grinned his approval, and resumed his caresses, although this time, much more intimately.

Clarisse began talking with Sebastian Motaz who sat directly across the table from her husband. Soon, her conversation with Sebastian began intertwining with the conversation between Joseph and the Head of the Genovian police force, and all began giving their opinions on the topic at hand. Once Sebastian and the head of police began talking amongst themselves, Joseph returned his eyes to Clarisse's gaze. She still had her hand on his, and he still had his hand in a very compromising position if anyone had been paying attention. They were both enjoying their private little under-the-table conversation when the head of police asked a very simple question that stopped them both in mid-caress.

Joseph turned his head to the gentleman as Clarisse asked, "I beg your pardon?"

"What I asked, your majesty, was why Joseph turned in his resignation to the Chief of Genovian Security two days before your wedding? I was under the impression that your wedding had not been planned and was rather spur of the moment." His eyes moved from the former Queen's to Joseph's "Had you already decided to marry before then?"

Joseph felt Clarisse stiffen immediately. He hadn't told her, and had not found a way to broach the subject with her concerning her initial rejection of his proposal. Joseph's heart almost stopped when he felt her take his hand and return it to his lap. He couldn't look at her; he didn't want to see the heartbreak in her eyes. Joseph noticed that the surrounding conversations had suddenly ceased and all people around him seemed to be waiting on baited breath for his answer. And how could he answer? Mia and Charlotte had known it was because of an incident involving the Queen, but did they really know why? How could he answer the question truthfully and not hurt his wife? He replied in a very low hushed voice, "I was brought to the realization that an unobtainable dream of mine was indeed unobtainable, as it was confined by loyalty, love, and duty to its country."

"And so, you resigned?" The head of the police force asked.

"When a dream is crushed, one does all he can to protect his heart from the harsh reality of that shattered dream. My resignation was a misguided attempt to protect myself from reality. But, as I discovered at my wedding, and subsequently through my marriage these past four months, one cannot live on dreams alone, and the heart does things for reasons that reason cannot understand." He looked at Clarisse as he said the last few words. He hoped she would understand that he hasn't resigned out of malice, but instead out of desperation. He couldn't protect her everyday when he was trying to protect his heart from breaking. Clarisse didn't meet his eyes, and there was enough tension between them that everyone got the subtle hint to change the subject. As they all began to begin new conversations, Joseph didn't take his eyes off his wife. Again she refused to meet his gaze, and instead of attempting to make peace, she turned to Mia and began discussing the previous morning's dove ceremony. Joseph had never felt so alone in a crowd of people.

* * *

Joseph had understood his wife's need for space this evening. After the dinner, she had retired early, and he had stayed talking with various guests. He had then wandered into the security office and checked up on everything, out of old habit, or just stalling the inevitable he wasn't quite sure. When he finally decided to retire for the evening, he opened the door to their suite, only to find her clad in her pajamas and robe, curled up on the couch. He made no apologies, and knew that she would be the one to initiate the conversation when she was ready. He dressed into his black silk pajamas and robe and joined her in the suite. He sat in the chair opposite the couch and stared into the fireplace, watching the flames dance. After what seemed like an eternity she finally spoke. "Were you ever going to tell me?"

He broke his gaze from the fireplace to look at his wife; she still wouldn't meet his eyes with her own. He spoke softly and honestly "I wanted to, and knew I needed to, but how was I supposed to begin the conversation?" She continued to stare into the fire, and he could see tears forming in her eyes. "How could I tell the love of my life that I had attempted to eliminate myself of her? That I had attempted to walk away from our love?" He could see the tears falling down her cheeks. He moved to sit on the couch to comfort her, but she still refused his touch. "Clarisse, I couldn't do it. You _are_ my life. To attempt to stop loving you would be like attempting to cut out my own heart. It can't be done." She finally looked at him. "I tried to protect myself from loving you for the past twenty years, and I couldn't. I told myself that I couldn't fall in love with my employer, my _Queen_. But my dear, my heart has been yours for as long as I can remember. It will be yours until the day I die. Whether I'm three thousand miles away or three millimeters, my love and my life are with you."

Clarisse knew he was telling her the truth. She felt the same way about him, and knew that had their situations been reversed, she would've tried to break free of him as well. Her tears continued to flow, but they were now tears of joy. As Joseph looked at her, she trembled. She wanted to tell him that she understood, and that he was forgiven, but her voice simply wouldn't comply with her heart's wishes. She heard his plea "don't shut me out" and her heart answered for her. Although her voice didn't work, her body did – and she propelled herself into his arms. Their lips met in the gentlest of kisses. Each trying to convey the love they had for one another, the understanding, and the passion. She crawled into his lap and sat straddling him. Her hands worked on his robe, as he began untying hers.

Tonight wouldn't be about lust, or even sexual gratification, tonight would be about the love and loyalty that they had for one another. As he worked her robe off, her hands left his robe and began removing her top. Once they were discarded, she again began working on his robe, but was impeded by her position on top of him, and his position on the couch. He could feel the dilemma, and solved the answer for her. He held onto her as he slowly moved them to the carpet. As the last of their clothing was removed, she reached for him. Joseph realized that this image of her on the floor bathed in firelight reaching for him would always be in his mind. He let his body rest against hers as he returned his lips to hers, hungry for her kiss.

She held him to her, as if afraid to let him go after this evening's confession. She was afraid that it all could be a cruel dream, in which he had, indeed, left her all alone. She wrapped her legs around him, as her body and heart needed him as close to her as humanly possible. It wasn't close enough, and she begged him to join their bodies together, and he did so swiftly. It still wasn't enough. Their bodies began to drive their hearts closer to climax in an age-old rhythm. Their eyes met and held as they reached the pinnacle together, their souls finally caressing each other. The moment was brief, but long enough for them to share a loving kiss before the euphoria of climax sent their souls crashing back into their own bodies. He had finally been close enough in that brief moment to settle her heart's foolish fear of abandonment.

* * *

A/N: The line that Joseph says about the heart doing things for reasons that reason cannot understand is from PD2. Thanks to the writer whoever wrote that line – it's awesome. No harm and no foul intended. (And yes, that's another line from PD 2)

Secondly – I got the idea about their little feelsky from a brief scene in "Duet for One". AWESOME Julie Andrews movie. I highly recommend watching it if you haven't seen it. Thanks to THAT writer for putting that little scene in there – although the circumstances are a bit different in this fiction than in the movie. I think that's all the disclaimers I need to make….and if not, insert which ever one I forgot here please.


	12. Making up

A/N: **HUGE **case of **M** warning. This chapter is PURELY rated M. That's M for **M**akeup sex, and nothing but that in this chapter. If you don't want it…don't read it.

Clarisse awoke with the distinct feeling that she was being watched, but was too satisfied to even open her eyes. She felt her husband's hand gently trace down her arm and then back up again. She stifled a groan as she felt his lips gently press a kiss to her shoulder. The kiss persisted and soon she felt her husband's tongue trace along the line of her shoulder, up to her ear. He gently began nibbling and sucking her earlobe and a moan escaped from her unchecked, but still, she kept her eyes closed. She felt her husband shift as his hand began caressing her other shoulder. He leaned on top of her, and she giggled when she felt his stiff manhood brush against her thigh. Was he really ready for a third round?

Joseph leaned back to look at his wife, and smiled when she opened her eyes. She caressed his hand, then moved her touches up to his neck. He kissed her thumb as her hand made its way up and around his neck and gently pulled him in for a kiss. His lips descended slowly upon hers. He kissed her softly, gently tugging at her bottom lip. She continued to hold him to her as she deepened the kiss, quickly dipping her tongue into his mouth, then retreating. He nipped at her tongue as it made it's second trip into his mouth. She pulled him tighter to her in response. He shifted his body more as he climbed on top of her, and she gasped and broke from their kiss as she felt his desire brush against her center. Finding her voice she spoke the thought that had occurred to her in their second round of lovemaking that evening. "You've made me a nymphomaniac."

Joseph smiled. He couldn't help but think that if there was someone who had excessive and uncontrollable sexual desires – it had to be him! He simply couldn't get enough of his wife. She was smart, sexy, had a wicked sense of humor, and could turn him on at the drop of a hat. He leaned down and quickly kissed her. "My dear, this isn't nymphomania, it's make-up sex." This time he kissed her neck, brandishing it with wild open mouth kisses. His kisses moved south to her chest, then to her breasts. He palmed her left nipple as he began licking her right one. He then took the nub in his hand and gave it a slight pinch.

Clarisse shut her eyes as her husband did the most delicious things to her breasts. What that man could do with his mouth and hands was absolutely scandalous! As her lavished her breasts with his attention, she marveled at how he had called this 'make up sex.' Indeed, he was probably right – she had forgiven him. He had hurt her deeply by not telling her, but in her own way she understood. She groaned as she felt his teeth nip at her, and his hand move further south. She held him to her breast, and encouraged his southward exploration by opening her legs to give him better access. As she felt his fingers softly touch her, she reasoned 'if this is what make-up sex is, we may have to fight more often.' Suddenly, his hands and mouth switched places. He began kissing her most intimately. She caressed his face and declared, 'I want you, my love.'

Joseph could deny his wife nothing. He placed a loving kiss to her curls and then moved into position. He looked deep into her eyes as he slowly entered her. His hands caressed her legs as he slowly began moving inside of her. They moved as one body, each adjusting to prolong the feeling of completeness. She caressed his back and he leaned over her to kiss her. This gave him a slightly different angle, and suddenly her caresses to his back became scratches. He upped the tempo, and she wrapped her legs around him tighter. Soon they were moving fast and furiously. Joseph didn't even feel the multiple deep scratches she was inflicting upon him – all he could feel was the point in his body where they were joined. Suddenly, her legs clamped around him in a vice-like grip and they were both sent over the edge. They shouted the other's name in glorious ecstasy. They shared a brief kiss before both passing out from exhaustion.

Again, Clarisse awoke with the distinct feeling that she was being watched, only this time, she was surprised to feel the softness of the mattress underneath her instead of the hard floor. She opened her eyes, and her suspicions were confirmed; sometime in the night her husband had carried her to bed. She could tell that, by the amount of light shining in from the curtains, it was still early morning. She felt a kiss to the back of her shoulder, then up to her neck, and soon she was being encased in her husband's loving arms. He was again nibbling on her earlobe and tried to roll her over onto her back. He fondled her breast and gently bit her earlobe, then flicked it with his tongue. She smiled at his obvious attempt to arouse her. It hadn't taken him too long to realize that she loved having her earlobes nibbled. As his hand moved further south to coax her into a more amorous mood, she decided she needed to talk about her husband's obvious obsession for her body.

As she turned over, she heard his moan of gratitude, but she continued to move and didn't stop with lying on her back. She now lay facing him in the bed, and she slowly disengaged his hand from her. He began kissing her and then spoke, "I just want to pleasure you." She couldn't help but smile. He certainly was an attentive lover. But she had to be honest with him.

"Joseph". Still he continued to kiss her, and she spoke louder, "Joseph." She got very little response from him, only hungrier kisses applied to her jaw line. "I'm a bit tired my love." He pulled back, from her. She looked at him sheepishly. "Well, I mean, three times last night is a bit exhausting!"

Joseph chuckled. She did have a point. "I'm sorry, my love, I just can't resist you. You are simply…." He kissed her shoulder "too delicious" he kissed her cheek "to resist." He kissed her lips. This time flicking his tongue into her mouth. She responded in kind, but he could tell that her response wasn't nearly as passionate as his kiss had been to her. He pulled back from the haven of her mouth and gave a slightly sad smile.

She couldn't resist that look and he knew it. "It's not that I'm tired, exactly…" she was hesitant. "It's more like I'm too sore." He grinned out right, and she realized that she had just inflated his ego. Nothing like telling your husband that you've made love too much within the last few days. She decided to deflate it a little bit before his head got too big. As she felt his motivation against her thigh, she mentally conceded, 'well, at least before _one_ of his heads gets too big!' "You do realize that we've made love 15 times this week! And the last few have either been on the ground, a hard bench, a couch, or the carpet? My back simply can't take it anymore!" She grinned at him. Although her back _was_ a bit sore, she wouldn't trade any of those moments for anything in the world.

He kissed her gently and responded, "We're in the bed now." Again he began kissing her, but when she didn't respond, he pulled back. He knew she really was tired. After their all-night make-up session, he had to admit that he was a bit tired himself. But truth be known, although they had made love more times this week than normal, he still wanted more of her. He couldn't consume or possess enough of her to ever be fulfilled. But that wasn't the only thing fueling his passion this morning; he was also nursing a very strong erection. Even after three rounds last night, it was hard as a rock this morning. She shifted slightly and her thigh brushed against the length of his manhood.

She raised her eyebrow as if to confirm what she thought she felt. When he didn't meet her eyes, she pulled up the edge of the covers and let her eyes rove down his body. He wasn't big; he was enormous! She marveled at the fact that this was his fourth one in less than nine hours. She thought to herself 'so that's why he was so relentless this morning.' A naughty grin covered her face and she impishly asked, "need help with that?" His eyes lit up in hopeful expectation. She kissed his lips passionately, and then her hand grasped him. He quickly sucked in air as she stroked him. She pushed him onto his back and then moved to sit on his thighs, all the time stroking him. "Joseph" he opened his eyes, and she leaned down for a quick kiss. She then took the covers from around them, and pulled them over her head.

He couldn't see what she was doing, but could see her mass under the covers, and it was nearing his desire. He couldn't resist needling her, "need a flashlight?"

She giggled, "No I don't." As if to prove her point, he suddenly felt the tip of her tongue at the tip of his desire. He gave a yelp of surprise as he felt her tongue work its way down to his jewels. It was very erotic not being able to see what she was doing, and to only feel her hot wet mouth on him. She licked her way back up, and he groaned in pleasure as she swallowed him. He grasped the sheet tightly as she began ascending him. Then her mouth was gone and all he heard was a giggle and a command, "let go of the sheet." He did, and she pulled the sheet off of her, but still maintained her position. She looked him in the eye as she returned her mouth to him, and his eyes rolled back into his head as he felt her teeth graze him.

She began tenderly loving him, her head bobbing up and down as she drove him closer and closer to climax. Then she did something that immediately sent him to flashpoint and over. On her ascent, she moved her fingernail up along the blue vein that her mouth revealed. He screamed her name like a man possessed as he quickly climaxed. The magnitude and suddenness of it robbed him of his conscious mind. As Clarisse gently ended her loving of him, she crawled back up his body and laid her head on his chest, waiting for him to awaken. As she lay there, she couldn't help but wonder 'what exactly does classify one as a nymphomaniac?'


	13. Definitions

"Apprehensive – anxious or fearful about the future." Charlotte recalled that vocabulary term from her schooling as a young child. Yes, apprehensive definitely described her attitude today. She had been summoned to the former Queen's chamber for a meeting. Ever since walking in on her majesty and Joseph last week, Charlotte had been dreading alone time with the former monarch. Since Queen Mia's coronation, Charlotte had kept her title as executive assistant of the Queen, and thus had been able to avoid too much alone time with Queen Clarisse. Yes, Charlotte still went over the former Queen's schedule with her and brought in her breakfast tray, but other than those few things she didn't see Queen Clarisse that often.

Charlotte took a deep breath and thought 'now or never' and gently knocked on the door to the Queen's chamber. When she received a "come" she plastered a smile on her face and tentatively opened the door.

"Awkward - embarrassing or inconvenient; caused by lack of social grace." 'That would be the understatement of the year' thought Charlotte. The meeting with her majesty had not gone well, _not_ that Charlotte had really thought that it would. Between her discomfort and the Queen's obvious embarrassment about the whole situation Charlotte didn't think it could have gone any worse. When she had opened the door and seen the expression on the Queen's face, she knew that the Queen knew her secret. The subject matter had been hard enough to broach, but then to have to talk about it? The Queen had decided that she would request her tea in the mornings rather than have Charlotte bring it in. That was fine by her – she didn't need to walk in on any more liaisons between the former Queen and Joe.

While Charlotte really was happy for her majesty, she still couldn't get over the fact that her Queen had sounded so hot-blooded that morning. And from what Charlotte had gathered from listening to the maids – the former Queen and Joe tended to "go at it" quite frequently, sometimes not making it to the bed all night. Charlotte shuddered – the Queen was very much like a second mother to her, and Joe a brother. The thought of them doing…..going at….again Charlotte shuddered. Even in her mind, she couldn't bring herself to think about what exactly had made her Queen growl that morning, but her mind had run rampant with ideas. 'If only I could take a stick and gouge out my mind's eye' she thought. She just wanted to put this whole day and incident behind her.

"Romance - Ardent emotional attachment or involvement between people; love." 'Yes, they definitely are the definition of a romance.' Charlotte had been watching the former Queen all evening, and now as she observed Joe cut in to dance with his wife, she realized exactly how privileged she was to be witnessing such a romance. The former Queen had danced with diplomats, heads of state, prime ministers, and various royalty over the course of her reign and over the course of the evening. But none of those dances ever compared to how the Queen danced when she was with Joseph. The diamonds in her tiara looked like dull sequins compared to the stars in her eyes when she looked at her husband.

There was something about them. The way he gently held her hand when they walked, or the way she caressed his cheek in a tender moment, or even the silent communications they had just by looking at each other. They were obviously completely and utterly in love with each other. Charlotte knew it was rare to see a couple that cared for one another so much that it exuded itself in the simplest of gestures. Charlotte watched as Joe pulled his wife closer to him and gently caressed her back. How there was a twinkle in his eye as she leaned in to whisper into his ear. How….Charlotte's eyes became as wide as saucers. Had she really just seen the former Queen of Genovia's hand move from caressing her husband's face, down to his chest, and then brush against a very intimate place on her husband?

Charlotte looked at Joe's face. To any untrained observer he looked calm and collected. But Charlotte had seen him at times of crisis and worry – and she knew that it took a lot to ruffle his feathers. By the look on Joe's face – his feathers were ruffled, primed and plucked and she knew that the former Queen had been the culprit. She looked to find her former Queen leaving the hall with a pronounced sway to her hips. She looked back at Joe and saw a fire in his eyes that she'd never seen before – it was pure raw lust. She mentally gave Joe ten minutes before he left the ball in search of his wife.

Charlotte thought to herself, "Maybe the maids were right, after all, they do know everything."

* * *

A/N: To all of you who have written me saying, what is a nymphomaniac? Well, like all the definitions above, from the website of: Dictionary (you can add the punctuation and the last three letters, stupid Fanfiction won't let you refer to webpages) Nymphomania - Excessive sexual desire in and behavior by a female.

Stay tuned for next week's episode when we meet a character from chapter 6.


	14. Fantasy

"May I cut in?" The timber of Joseph's voice was a welcomed sound. All night, Clarisse had been dancing with dignitaries, heads of state, princes, kings, and everybody else in between. As the former Queen of Genovia, she felt it prudent that she should dance with all of these men, but her heart and arms longed to dance with only one man. The man who had _finally_ decided to rescue her. She gave a slight nod of her head to the Japanese ambassador and soon found herself in her husband's arms.

Joseph pulled his wife against him and began dancing to the waltz that had just started. Clarisse rested her head on his shoulder and gently sighed "thank you." She was rewarded with a gentle kiss to her forehead and her husband pulling her closer to him. Joseph had watched his wife all night. He knew that she felt obligated in her role as former Queen, and just as he felt obligated by his role of former Head of Security, he stood on the sidelines observing people. But tonight, it had been different. She was no longer his queen, and he was no longer her head of security. He no longer had to hide his affection for her – she was his wife, his lover, and his life.

Prior to this evening, he would always watch her dance with other men, creating a need in him to taker her into his arms. Most balls and grand functions he could control his desires for the evening. He would then live out his fantasies of being with her in the privacy of his bedroom, with the pale substitution of his hands. But there had been a few occasions in which he simply could not resist her. There had been the last Independence Day ball in which King Rupert, may he rest in peace, had attended. He had asked Clarisse to dance that night. It was shortly after he had been named head of security and it had been at the King's urging that he had even had the nerve to ask her. That had been two years prior to the king's death. That was the night that changed it all for Joseph.

He had been her personal bodyguard for twelve years prior to that evening and had had cause to hold her on occasion. Once, as shots rang out in France, he had pushed her to the ground covering her body with his own. He had led her through crowds, guarded her through the onslaught of reporters, helped her up on the rare occasion that she tripped – but in all that time, never had he embraced her as he had that night. Holding her in his arms that evening, his defenses had been shattered and he instantly knew that there would be no other woman for him than Clarisse. He had felt guilty that night as he took pleasure in the fantasy of her bringing him release. Sure, he had fantasized about her on occasion, but that had been the first time that it had only been her face that he thought about. Only her arms did he long to be in, her smile that he longed to see, her eyes that he longed to see reflecting love for him. After he had brought himself to climax using only his fantasies, he had sobbed for what could never be. She was the Queen of Genovia, married to the king, and she held his heart and soul.

Little did Joseph know that in under ten years from that night, she would be his wife dancing in his arms, and that his fantasies could be played by the real Clarisse, not his worthless hands and vivid imagination. As Clarisse burrowed closer into her husband, Joseph couldn't help but think about the previous night. Her discovery of his hasty resignation, the hurt he had seen in her eyes as she sat on the couch. He had taken a vow to protect the crown - and in just under five months of marriage, he had hurt the crown's emotions. Admittedly, she was no longer Queen of Genovia, but to Joseph she would always be the Queen. His memory floated from the hurt and pain that he had caused to the absolute rapture he had given her just a few short hours later.

Their first coupling had been wonderfully blissful. Clarisse holding his body tight to hers as he drove them to completion. Their second had been quite playful, each teasing the other with caresses and kisses that drove them wild, until finally their need drove them to satisfaction. Their third union had been wild, hard, and fast. As evidenced by the deep scratches she had placed upon his back. It did his ego good to know that he could make his wife so frenzied that she clawed him in her need. But this morning – he had not expected that. Sure, they had pleased each other orally a few times, but never had he blacked out. The look on her face as she had sized him up had been priceless, and then the feel of her teeth, tongue, and ….Joseph suddenly became aware of how confined his pants had gotten in the last few minutes.

He caressed his wife's back and gently called her name. Clarisse lifted her head and looked into her husband's eyes and was taken back by the sheer lust she saw in them. He hoarsely whispered "I want to make love to you, my Queen." She was surprised at how a simple dance could stir his desires, but as she continued their dance, he shifted and she suddenly felt his motivation. Her eyes widened and again she shifted and confirmed her assessment, he was rock hard. Joseph recognized the look of shock on his wife's face. And truth be known, he felt rather guilty about asking her to make love. After all, this morning she had confessed that she was quite sore from their earlier escapades during the week, and here he was asking her again to make love. He felt as if he should say something, "I'm sorry, it's just…" but he didn't get to finish.

Clarisse caressed his cheek and leaned into his ear with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. She whispered, "Your demand as head of security pleases me. Give your Queen fifteen minutes, and your request will be granted." Her hand moved from his face to his chest, "I would like a private audience with you…" her hand continued down to his abdomen, "as Queen and staff member." Her hand grazed his manhood, and he almost jumped. She chuckled, "or should I say _stiff_ member?" She turned to leave the ballroom, swaying her hips as she went. Clarisse had never felt so brazen or so sensual in her life, and she knew that her husband would be surprised with what she had in mind.

* * *

Joseph had finally calmed himself down enough to be able to leave the dance floor. He knew Charlotte had been observing him, but couldn't bring himself to look at his friend. He knew that his wife had discussed last week's observed interlude with Charlotte earlier in the day, and like his wife, he was still having a difficult time looking the young woman in the eye. Dismissing the guards outside their suite was one thing, but to have somebody actually walk in on them was another. Joseph looked down at his watch – eight minutes to go. He looked at the various couples dancing, and noted with a small smile that Nicolas had cut in to dance with Queen Mia. He couldn't help but feel proud of the young woman who stood up for herself against an antiquated law. He looked at his watch again – seven minutes. He knew whatever his wife was planning would be worth the wait, but could he really wait fifteen minutes? He mustered up the courage to look at Charlotte, and was dismayed when he saw a smirk grace her lips.

Who was he to feel ashamed that he was in love with his wife? She stirred creativity, passion, ingenuity, and his soul like no other woman had or ever could. She was graceful, sincere, honest, loving, mischievous, and a vixen. The way she smiled at him, the way her breath caught as he leaned in to kiss her, the way her eyes shone with love for him, the sounds she made when he would pleasure her, the way she would scream his name upon climax. Again, Joseph felt his arousal renew itself, and he looked at his watch – four minutes to go. Again, he thought of his wife, the way her freckles gave way to pure alabaster breasts, her muscular thighs, the dip where her shoulder met her neck. Joseph couldn't take it any longer, with one last look around the ballroom; he took his leave to find his Queen.

As he walked to their suite, he noted that she had already dismissed the guards. Although he agreed with her course of action, he was a bit dismayed that she had been unprotected for the past 14 minutes. However, at this point in time, he was rather glad that there was no one around to see his aroused state. He approached their door, and he could feel the anticipation building in him. He didn't know what she had planned, but no matter what it was, he was sure it would be worth the wait. He opened the door and was greeted by the subdued lighting of a fire and a few scant candles. He closed the door, and began to approach the bedroom, but halted at her command. "You requested an audience with me?"

He turned, and could barely make out her form behind her desk. It was a dark corner, and all he could really see was the firelight dancing off of her tiara and in her eyes. His eyebrows shot up as he thought: role-playing? They had never done this, and quite honestly, he found it highly erotic. He moved towards her voice and replied, "Yes your majesty."

"And the nature of this audience?" Again, the tiara beckoned to him like a beacon in the night.

He kneeled about five feet in front of her desk. "If it pleases you, I would very much like to make love to you."

"And who are you to request such a thing from me?" Her voice was low and sultry.

"I am but a servant your majesty. A servant to Genovia and to her Queen." He bowed his head.

"Then you are in the wrong room, sir. The Queen of Genovia's room is at the opposite end of the palace." She scoffed. Clarisse stood and began walking towards her husband. The cool satin covering her and the heated temperature of her body were doing delicious things to her libido. As much as she wanted him, she was enjoying the fantasy, and wanted it to continue.

Joseph was slightly confused. He still kneeled in front of her desk and was surprised when she stood up. As she walked towards him, he could finally see more of her in detail. Her body was draped in something that reflected the dim lighting. She walked past him towards their suite; he grabbed a hold of the fabric as she passed: satin. His mind raced at the possibilities, and realization dawned on him. He stood and quickly grabbed her around the waist, her back to his chest and he whispered in her ear. "Forgive me, you majesty. I ask of you, may I serve you? I have been but a lowly inhabitant of your domain, and did not know that you were in residence this evening. You are…" he kissed her shoulder as his hands moved to cup her breasts "first and foremost…" he nipped at her ear "my supreme ruler." His hands moved up to just above her breasts. "You are _my Queen…_" he growled "my Queen of the sheets."

His hands untied the sheets between her breasts. Her hands held his in place and whispered. "Are you sure that your loyalties are with me and not some other Queen?"

His hands moved to cup her breasts again, and he licked the little dip at her neck. She leaned back against him, arching her neck to give him more room for his oral assault. He hoarsely whispered "oh yes" and accentuated it with a thrust of his hips against her.

She moaned her approval as his hands did magical things to her breasts. He began tugging on the sheet that she was wrapped in, and she moved from his embrace, turning to face him and to unwind herself from the sheet just a little bit. She looked him in the eye and replied, "then your request shall be granted." He held onto the sheet as she spun slowly towards their bedroom door once, twice, three times and she was through the door. Joseph stood holding a red satin sheet in his hand and an impish grin on his face. He released the sheet, and began undoing his tie as he walked towards the bedroom. It too had been decorated with candles. Joseph left a trail of clothing as he made his way to the bed. His Queen lay amongst the pillows with nothing on but her tiara. He crawled on the bed towards her, kissing first her toes, then her thighs, her curls, her navel, her breasts, her neck, and finally as their lips met, a moan escaped from her.

His kiss was hungry and insistent, and she opened her mouth to his invading tongue. Clarisse wasn't at all surprised by his desire, after feeling him on the dance floor, then teasing him as she left, and with the little seduction she had set up, she was surprised that he hadn't entered her immediately. His fingers quickly found her breasts and tweaked her nipples into an achingly pert state. Joseph began rocking against her, his manhood teasing her, gently bumping the point of her desire. She groaned her satisfaction as she grasped tightly to his back. Joseph took this as his cue and swiftly joined their bodies, keeping the rhythm he had set earlier. Clarisse arched her back and the sudden sensation, breaking their kiss.

Joseph looked at his wife. The tiara that shifted as it reflected the light to the rhythm of their lovemaking, the slight bounce to his wife's breasts as his body met hers, the love that was in her eyes as she looked at him. His hand moved to the point of her desire, bringing her closer to release. He moved faster within her, and her nipples grazed against his chest, sending waves of pleasure down to his groin. Suddenly, her legs pulled him hard against her and he cried out as his climax overcame him. In the haze of his crescendo, he realized that his wife had not been with him. And contrary to his body's orders to slow down, he was determined to bring his wife to the same glorious crest that he had experienced. He moved faster and leaned over her for added leverage. He pinched the point of her desire as he whispered, "my Queen." This sent Clarisse to flashpoint and she bit his shoulder. The biting of his flesh and the erotic sound of his wife sent Joseph over the precipice again in a mind-numbing climax that robbed him of consciousness for the second time that day.

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A/N: And breathe. This chapter has been brought to you by a happy muse who was fed Cheetos puffs and Dr. Pepper, the unofficial sponsors of Genovia. 


	15. Pineapple

AN: Ok, so I didn't realize it had been over a month since I updated. So sorry! But since the Great American Turkey Day is coming up next week, and I'll be out of town, I decided I should get on the ball about an update! So, here we go. And since I'll be out of town for a week and a half - it will be a little while before I update again. But on the bright side - I'm going to "Sin City" so maybe I'll come back with more ideas!

* * *

Clarisse smiled as she looked at the sleeping form of her husband, he looked so happy and peaceful. She couldn't help but think it had been brought on by their activities this past week. He had been practically insatiable up until last night. She still didn't know where the idea of role-playing had come from, but it had apparently worked. In the wake of their lovemaking, he had confessed that it was the first time in his life that he had had multiple orgasms. It had warmed her heart to know that she had brought him that much pleasure.

A soft knock on her chamber door roused her from her musings, and she went to answer the door. She had showered, ordered breakfast, and gotten dressed all while Joseph peacefully slept. Upon returning to their bedroom with the breakfast tray in tow, she contemplated waking her husband. He apparently needed the rest, but she also knew that she had a busy schedule the rest of the day and wanted to share breakfast with him.

As she removed the dome covering their breakfast, she was suddenly hit with a feeling of déjà vu. There on the plate were a few chunks of pineapple; she hadn't eaten any since their honeymoon. A blush crept to her cheeks as she remembered her last pineapple breakfast.

* * *

Clarisse had awoken in her husband's loving arms after a night full of passion. They had arrived at their honeymoon the previous afternoon, and Joseph had proceeded to immediately make love to her. She finally understood why people called it 'making love.' She had always viewed sex as a means to make an heir or to make her husband happy. She had never thought that having sex could be so truly pleasurable. Joseph had tended to her need – one she didn't even know she had. They had made love three times since their arrival, and each time he had fully possessed her, and she him. She finally understood his previous frustrations with their love life. At the palace she was completely reserved, a bit closed off, and in a way – unapproachable, even to her husband. She was, or at least had been, the Queen. The ever-in-command, rarely emotional Queen of Genovia. Queens certainly never had sex (or at least didn't have sex after providing and heir and a spare), never loved, and never depended on somebody else.

But, Clarisse conceded, wives did. And for the first time since their marriage a month prior, she felt like a wife, and not the Queen or even a former Queen. She didn't know how Joseph had changed the way she looked at herself, but he had. Somehow, she was able to shed the cool Queen exterior and was able to thrive in the warm-blooded interior of a wife and lover. She flushed with excitement at the thought of the word 'lover'. She had never thought of herself that way – or of anybody else. Yes, she and Rupert had loved each other, but she conceded that they were not _in love_ with each other. As she had told Mia – they were more "fond" of each other rather than in love. Their 'consummations of marriage' had always been a bit uncomfortable, not physically, but emotionally. Emotionally Clarisse had always wondered how you had sex with someone you felt was more like a good friend or brother, and not the star-crossed lover she had always dreamed of. She and Rupert had a fine marriage, had two beautiful sons, and 40 some-odd years of respect and honor between them, but never true love.

In a little over a month with Joseph, she felt more with him than she ever had with Rupert. She supposed it was because they had been friends first and then were married, and not the opposite way around as it had been with Rupert. Joseph was the star-crossed lover she had always imagined that she would have – and it had nearly cost her her happiness in life. The stars had finally crossed and in matter of a short conversation – she had told the love of her life that she couldn't marry him. Even as she had said the words, they burned her throat, but at the time she did have a duty to her country before the duty to herself. Fortunately for both of them, fate had been kind and the stars had realigned two days later and they had immediately been married. Clarisse had known it wouldn't be easy to adjust to married life with Joseph – and their first month had solidified that thought. It had seemed that all Joseph wanted to do was have sex – they had done so three times since their exchange of vows. Each time he had tried to stoke a fire in her that she feared she didn't possess. She had been married before and assumed she understood the act of sex as well as anyone.

But after yesterday, Clarisse realized what Joseph had been wanting – it wasn't sex, it was a confirmation of their love. After sharing her, apparent, first orgasm she understood that he had wanted to see the joy in her eyes as he brought her to fulfillment. The intensity of the orgasm had shocked her, and she had truly been surprised that she had never had one so intense before. Joseph had made the comment that he wanted her to experience it again, and had proceeded to make love to her again. Clarisse still blushed at the thought of how she had initiated the third round. Joseph had apparently found the button to releasing the fire inside of her, and she wanted to feel it again. She wanted to see the look in his eyes as he entered her, the feel of his body pressed against hers, the low sound of his groans of satisfaction. Clarisse had never felt so completely in love as she had that morning. Which is what had prompted her to make breakfast for them.

She had left her husband in their bed, slipped on a robe, and made her way to the kitchen of their bungalow. She had discovered a fruit basket and thought that a nice fruit salad would be a great breakfast choice for them. As she began cutting the fruit, she didn't realize she had begun singing to herself. This is the way Joseph had found her that morning – clad in a robe, barefoot, and singing in the kitchen.

Joseph had awakened at the sound of their bedroom door shutting that morning. He had taken a few minutes to stretch and wakeup before setting off to find his wife. He had been drawn to the sound of her humming a happy tune – one that he recognized as South Pacific's 'wonderful guy.' He couldn't help but think how apropos that was – as he was definitely in love with a wonderful woman. He stood in the doorway watching her for a few moments. She stood with her back to him, her figure silhouetted through her robe, and her movements were fluid and sensual. As she tried a piece of fruit and gave a sensual 'mmmmm' he could no longer resist her.

The rhythmic sound of the knife slicing through the fruit faltered when she felt two arms encircle her waist. Clarisse felt her husband nuzzle her neck, and shifted her head slightly to give him better access to her neck. She wasn't disappointed as she felt his lips sear the delicate skin of her neck. His hands enclosed around hers, and took up the rhythmic beat of slicing the fruit. "Good morning" she whispered as he continued to help her in her duties.

He whispered in her ear, "it is now" and sealed his proclamation with a kiss just below her ear. She attempted to turn in his arms, but was impeded by his close proximity. Instead, she felt his hands grip hers a bit more firmly as they continued to slice up a pineapple. The mundane task soon became much more exciting than Clarisse ever thought a simple task could be. As the sound of they rhythmic "swish thunk, swish thunk" of the knife piercing the skin of the fruit and then coming to rest against the board filled the kitchen, Joseph began to sway against her in time to their music.

His hands moved from holding hers, to moving up her arms, caressing her. As his hands reached her shoulder, they curved around and began moving down her body. Clarisse enjoyed the tingle of excitement she got as his hands gently caressed the side of her breasts. But she continued their rhythm "swish thunk, swish thunk." His lips moved from her ear to her neck to the exposed skin of her shoulder. His hands found the tie of her robe and she vehemently tried to continue they rhythm of the knife "swish….swish….thunk…thunk… swish…thunk….thunk….thunkthunkthunkthunk" Clarisse could no longer concentrate on her hands as her husband slowly began to manipulate her with his. One hand was tweaking her breast as the other was sneaking its way south. The knife clattered against the counter as he touched her intimately. She leaned heavily against him and turned to share a kiss with him.

Clarisse had never felt so alive or so desired in her life. Here she was a woman well into her sixties and she felt scandalously sensual for the first time in her life. She wanted to see the look in her husband's eyes as he stoked the fire that was quickly becoming an inferno in her. She turned in his arms, and his hands both immediately moved a few inches north of their previous targets. The one that had been tending her breast gently cupped the back of her neck and pulled her to him for a searing kiss. The one that had been stroking her passion encircled her waist and pulled her closer to him, allowing her to feel the passion she had invoked in him. She groaned as she felt him pulse against her. She broke their kiss and looked into his eyes. She was pleased to see the desire and flickering of lust in his eyes. She attempted to move from his embrace and suggest that they continue this in the bedroom, but Joseph didn't move. He shook his head and mumbled "here." She was very aware that, unlike their bedroom, the kitchen had many windows and anyone passing by could get an unhindered view. He guessed her internal musings as he added "let go of your inhibitions and just react to me, to us."

Her protest died on her lips as his consumed them. He pressed himself against her and she was trapped between his hard body and the hard counter. She moaned as he pressed into her, the knob of the cabinet digging into her lower spine. All she felt was pleasure as he slowly slipped off her robe, his fingers delicately caressing her skin as more and more of it was exposed to his touch. His hand fell from her back to the counter, as he blindly reached for a piece of pineapple. Once the piece of fruit was secured he leaned back from her a bit, and placed the fruit in his mouth. He then brought his lips back to hers, and they lovingly shared the piece of fruit. The cold juices of the sweet fruit were a delightful contrast to the warm heat of his tongue in her mouth. He reached for another piece and again, placed it in his mouth. He had planned to share this piece much like the other one, but was stopped by the look in her eyes. Instead, her hands gently enclosed over his hand and she brought it to her mouth. Clarisse slowly licked away the juices from his fingers, first running her tongue up one side of the finger then down the other. She began with his pinky, then moved to the next finger, as she reached the tip of the fourth finger, she slowly sank her mouth over the entire finger, letting her teeth graze his knuckle. They both let out a satisfied moan of the blatant erotic mimicry of a different sexual act. Her lips ascended his finger and keeping eye contact with her husband, her lips descended his finger again, this time caressing him with her tongue.

Joseph couldn't believe the intimacy that his wife was conveying with him. Although, it wasn't an invitation, it was an obvious promise of "what was yet to be." He was surprised that in just a few short hours she had become comfortable enough with her sexual being to even suggest such an intimate act between them. He wasn't quite sure which turned him on more – the thought _of_ his wife doing that for him, or that his wife _wanted_ to do that for him. Either way – it was something that he would look forward to. As she ascended the tip of his finger again, he could no longer resist the taste of her mouth – it had been far too long since he had kissed her. He quickly replaced his finger with his tongue as he proceeded to taste and possess his wife.

* * *

Clarisse flashed hot as she remembered making love there in the kitchen. She had wanted to make love in the privacy of their bedroom, but Joseph had obviously not wanted to take the time for a change in venue. She smiled as she thought that it had been the first of many places in which he would find it appropriate for them to share their love. She could practically feel the contrast of the cool tile floor and his warm hard body as he had made love to her on the floor. She had found it highly erotic to be able to hear the echoes of her scream of orgasm as it bounced off of the floor and cabinets. She had enjoyed it so much, that it had lead her to initiate another round on the kitchen floor that evening. Clarisse chuckled as she realized that since their honeymoon, there had yet to be a time when she didn't have an orgasm when they made love. To think – she had been missing that all of her life prior to Joseph.

She looked down at the sleeping form of her husband and had an overwhelming desire to thank him properly for showing her what she had been missing. Although fully dressed, and really unable to thank him properly, she was struck with an idea. She pulled the covers back from his sleeping form and admired his hard body. Her eyes then settled on the part of him that brought her so much pleasure these few months of their marriage. A wicked grin spread over her lips. She secured a piece of pineapple and gently ran it over his lips. Not opening his eyes, Joseph opened his mouth and gently took the piece of fruit from her hand. She repeated the action, and again, he didn't open his eyes. She secured a third piece and as the pineapple passed his lips, her lips caressed him intimately. His eyes opened immediately and found his wife at his manhood. As his tongue began to lick away the juices from her fingers, her she began to reciprocate in kind. As he pulled her finger fully into his mouth – she possessed him fully with her mouth. He licked – she licked, he swallowed – she swallowed, he groaned in pleasure – she groaned in satisfaction, he yelled her name in climax – she held onto him as she rode his wave of pleasure.


	16. Stairs to Heaven

"What is it about this outfit that makes you lose control?" Clarisse didn't even open her eyes as she inquired of her husband the question that plagued her during their latest round of making love. She was lying upside down in their marital bed, half clothed, out of breath, and thoroughly sated. Although unable to muster up enough energy to open her eyes, she guessed that her husband was in a similar state.

The only response she got was a "mmm" and a kiss on her shoulder. Clarisse really didn't understand her husband's particular fascination with this outfit. It was nothing extraordinary: a simple black tailored jacket and knee length skirt that had the slightest bit of flair to it. She had raincoats that were more revealing than this outfit for goodness sake, and yet it was the one that made her husband lose all inhibitions. And her own inhibitions, she conceded. Since their marriage, she'd worn it three times, and each had lead to some quite adventurous lovemaking. The first time she'd worn it was on their honeymoon. Just the thought of it still made her breath catch in anticipation.

* * *

It had been one of the few times they had ventured out of their bungalow while honeymooning. Clarisse had wanted to experience at least one night of food and dancing in the main lodge. Joseph had showered and dressed, and after a few wild kisses to his blushing bride, he had been shooed out of their bedroom to allow her to finish dressing. When she had entered the living area downstairs, she had received his approval by way of a gasp followed shortly by savage kisses placed along her neck, chest, and mouth each being punctuated by a "you look marvelous" "my darling" and "beautiful."

They shared dinner by candlelight, feasting on caviar, oysters, muscles, lobster, and chocolate fondue. All the while, Joseph's chair had begun sliding closer and closer to hers, until finally he was caressing her knee while feeding her chocolate covered strawberries. Dinner completed, they had danced to exactly three songs until Joseph had whispered in her ear desires for a completely different type of dance. She had felt his desire pressing against her hip during the second dance, and was shocked by it. By the third dance, their motions had been reduced to swaying, and his hand had moved from holding her gently to him, to gently caressing her. The look of pure lust in his eyes had left no doubt in her mind that any further dancing that evening would be in the privacy of their bungalow.

They had barely made it through the front door before clothing was removed. They had shared many savage kisses along the path from the main lodge to their hide-away. At one point, they had though the bungalow too far, and were sorely tempted to use the lounge chairs at the pool area. But Joseph being the former head of security had always been prone to notice security cameras, and the pool area was rife with them. Clarisse wondered how Joseph had made her ideas change in under a month. With Rupert, the only flat surface conducive to consummating a marriage was a bed – with Joseph, it was any flat surface would make a consummate bed. And after their time together – she thoroughly agreed with Joseph's way of thinking.

As Clarisse turned the lock on the bungalow, she felt her husband's hands roaming along her waist. She turned in his embrace and was rewarded with the pressing of his lips to hers and the doorknob pressed into her lower back. Her moan of pain reached his ears, and he broke the kiss. He pulled back from her, and she looked into his eyes. He looked like a man possessed, crazed to have her. He had never looked at her quite this way before, and she was a bit hesitant. They had never had, what she guessed people considered, "rough sex" before. Sure, they had made love on the kitchen floor, the balcony, the bed, the shower, the sauna, the coffee table, the couch, the beach, the jacuzz….as the list continued in her head, she was struck with realization that they had made love in a numerous amount of places over the last month. Each time had been absolutely wonderful, and she wouldn't forget any of the encounters for quite sometime. Who was she to argue with how or where he wanted to make love? Just as long as they were together – she knew that deep down he had her best interests at heart, and would never put her in a compromising position.

She was pulled out of her reverie by the feel of her husband's hands opening her jacket. His hands were along her back, underneath the jacket, as he began kissing her chest. She felt the tight grip of his fingers against her back – she could feel the restraint he was using not to completely devour her. She pulled out of his embrace, and attempted to move up the stairs, but was stopped about four stairs up by his groan of approval. She turned, and was surprised to see her husband not at the bottom of the stairs, but instead, quickly moving quickly to join her. His hands moved to her waist and hair, holding her to him, as he savagely kissed her. She felt her knees weaken as his tongue invaded her mouth.

He eased her to sit on the stairs, as his lips remained locked with hers. His kisses began to move, along her jaw, to her neck, to her lace-clad breasts. She was a bit surprised when he didn't remove her bra, but her surprise was quickly suppressed by a moan escaping her lips as she felt his hands travel down her legs to remove her heels. One shoe, then two shoes removed, his hands traveled back up her silk-clad legs to the clasps of her garter belt on her stockings. His fingers fumbled with the clasps, and Clarisse moved to help him. He groaned his approval, and began working her panties down as the last clasp was released, moving from in between her legs as the panties were quickly discarded. He looked back up at his wife – jacket open, her breasts held in a lace bra, her chest quivering with the rapid breathing of arousal, her skirt bunched up in the front, giving him an unhindered view of paradise, and the longest pair of legs – completely encased in silk stockings to mid thigh. He knew that if he died tonight, he would die a very happy man.

Joseph crawled back up to his wife, climbing one stair at a time, kissing his way up her legs. As he reached her center, he took a deep breath, inhaling her arousal, but knew that if he tasted paradise, he would possibly climax without having been fully satisfied. His kisses resumed at her belly button, dipping his tongue in the slight indention. As his mouth reached her breasts, he felt her hands upon his face, gently pulling and beseeching him to kiss her. He could deny her nothing and he continued crawling up the stairs until he reached her beguiling mouth.

As his lips finally joined hers again, they both began fumbling with the clasp to his trousers. After a few minutes of fumbling, and still receiving no success, Clarisse gently pushed Joseph back to give her room to work. As she released the zipper, he began tugging at the waist of his trousers and his boxers, trying to release himself from his confines. If his actions didn't show his frantic need for her, then his arousal would have spoken for itself. As he sprang free, Clarisse realized exactly how turned on her husband had been all night. He was enormous and was bobbing to the same rhythm of her heartbeat. She groaned her satisfaction, and then as she grasped him, it was his turn to groan.

She hissed in satisfaction as he entered her, filling her completely. She held him to her, greedily enjoying the sensation of being full. He began to withdraw, and she quickly grasped him and pulled him back into her. He groaned with the need to move within her. Sensing his dilemma of satisfying her by staying or satisfying himself by moving, she gave a slight remedy to the situation. She pulled her legs around him, giving him the freedom to move, and allowing her the power to pull him back as quickly as possible. The found their rhythm quickly. As he began moving faster, Clarisse was struck with the notion that she needed to amend her thought from earlier in the evening. It wasn't any _flat_ surface that Joseph needed to make love to her, it was _any_ surface would do.

As he tightly gripped her hips, she pulled him closer to her. She looked into his eyes – although lust was a large part of what she saw being reflected, it was tempered by pure, unadulterated love. This brought tears to her eyes, and their lips met for the briefest of kisses. Joseph's exertion to bring them to fulfillment didn't allow for long and passionate kisses, so instead, he moved kissing her exposed shoulder and neck. At one point, Clarisse pulled him hard against her, slamming her into the steps, and resulting in more of a bite to her shoulder than a kiss. Joseph doubled his efforts, and soon they were both screaming each other's names as pure bliss enclosed upon them.

* * *

As Clarisse looked back on the encounter, she had guessed that his amorous mood had been because of the raw oysters. Aphrodisiac 101 – raw oysters and chocolate make for a very interesting night. That thought brought a smile to her face. But as she lay in the afterglow of making love with her husband, she was becoming more and more convinced that it hadn't been the oysters on the half shell that had lead to the encounter – it had been her outfit. She chanced a glance over at her husband, and saw that he was still lying beside her on his back, completely naked, and satisfied. The second time she had worn the outfit in question, it had lead to a very, _very_, interesting cocktail hour.

* * *

….TBC. Sorry, I know, I shouldn't stop here, but I figured I'd give you a little bit to whet your whistle. Yes, I have encounters 2, 3, and possibly 4 thought out in my head…. (but not written!)

And before you ask, no I don't know if I'll be writing about the laundry list of places that they made love while on their honeymoon. I've described the kitchen floor, we've already had a bathroom scene (although NOT while on their honeymoon), but I'm open for suggestions as to which one you want. Of if you can think of another place. Well, enjoy today's segment, I hope to write the other parts soon.


	17. Reflections

Clarisse's mind wandered to that fateful cocktail hour. Prime Minister Sebastian Motaz and his wife were celebrating their fifteenth wedding anniversary, and were having cocktails and heavy appetizers. The two days prior to the celebration had been greeted by Clarisse and Joseph as missed opportunities. Between her busy schedule, and his, they had not had any time together, not that they hadn't tried. They just always seemed to be interrupted whenever they had a few moments to themselves.

Having very little time to herself was nothing new for Clarisse, but as a new wife it was very frustrating. She and Joseph had been back home from their honeymoon a little over two weeks and they had seen very little of each other since their return. Although time together hadn't been in great quantity, it certainly had been a great quality. Clarisse was still in amazement as to how Joseph removed all of her defenses. Yes, on their honeymoon, she had been uninhibited, but she had expected the refined and cloistered queen to return with her. Instead, she discovered that the hot-blooded temptress had remained as a part of her, much to the delight of her husband.

There were times that all Joseph had to do was look at her and she wanted to remover her clothes, his clothes, and have her wicked way with him. Their adventuresome lovemaking that had taken place abroad also found root in the castle. They had made love in numerous places – mainly due to their restricted schedules. Any time that they had alone together was time that was well put to use.

The Motaz home was rather large, but not ostentatious; one that suited the Prime Minister and his family. However, with well over a hundred guests mingling about, the area seemed rather cramped. Clarisse had been speaking with Sheila when suddenly Sheila had been bumped and her drink deposited all over Clarisse's dress. Sheila had graciously taken Clarisse upstairs to help wash out the stain, but after being shown the bathroom, Clarisse had insisted that Sheila return to her guests.

When Joseph saw Sheila return from upstairs sans his wife, he went in search of her. He found her gently dabbing at her dress with a towel, a scowl on her face. Quietly making his way into the bathroom, he gently held Clarisse's hand and extracted the towel from her fingers with a "please, let me." She looked at his eyes in the mirror and gave him a gentle smile. Joseph began dabbing at her jacket with the towel while the other hand found its way to her waist.

As he continued to dry her jacket, she leaned against him. This was as close as they had been to each other all day, and Clarisse was enjoying his touch. Clarisse continued to look in the mirror and watch her husband's progress. She felt his lips against her neck and caught his loving gaze in the mirror. She smiled at him, but quickly turned into a gasp as she felt the towel against her bosom. Joseph arched his eyebrow in silent question, to which she returned with an arched eyebrow as a challenge. The towel fell unnoticed into the sink, as again, Joseph's hand brushed against her breast, this time only impeded by her clothing. He gently groped her and she leaned against him heavily. His mouth found her neck again and brandished the skin with searing kisses. The hand that had gently been holding her waist quickly found its way to her neglected breast and rewarded it with the same treatment as the other.

Clarisse looked at herself in the mirror, and was surprised to see the flush of passion on her skin. Her normally milky white skin had a gentle pink hue to it. She arched her head to give Joseph better access to her tender neck and was entranced by her reflection. She gasped as she felt his hand move between her thighs. She'd been so enthralled at looking at her reflection, that she had failed to notice the movement of Joseph's hand. Her eyes widened as she saw her reflection open her stance to give her husband better access to his target. Joseph moaned his approval, as the movement ground herself against his arousal.

His lips moved up to her ear and whispered "I want you Clarisse, I want you now." He punctuated his statement by pulling his hand hard against the crux of her thighs and grinding himself into her. She could feel his arousal against her, and she could feel hers against his hand. She was surprised when the woman in the mirror nodded her ascent. She watcher her husband's reflection turn and lock the door to the bathroom. She couldn't taker her eyes off of him as he stepped closer to her, returning his hands to her breasts. She was surprised to see that her jacket was completely unbuttoned, when had he done that? The rosy hue that she had noted earlier had spread across her chest, dipping below her chemise.

She watched as her reflection's hand slipped behind her, then felt the belt of her husband's trousers. She began working on his pants as his fingers gently pushed the chemise out of the way, barring her nipples to the cool air. His tongue was hot and wet against her neck, and she was rewarded with a gentle bite as she freed his erection.

Joseph shifted and she watched as it bobbed next to her waist, jumping with delight at the prospect of being inside her. She felt hands tugging and her nipples and her gaze moved from the reflection of her husband's manhood to her own hands bringing her pleasure. She wasn't sure if she was more surprised that the hands weren't her husbands or that they were her own. A quick survey of the decadent reflection showed her that her husband had her skirt up around her waist, and she felt his fingers brush against her center as he unsnapped her chemise. Her eyelids were heavy from pleasure, but somehow she fought to keep them open as she watched her husband's fingers dip inside of her.

Being the mother of two, married twice, and having made love to her husband more times than she could count; Clarisse considered herself decently versed on the act of making love. But she was in awe as she watched her body's response to her husband's ministrations. She felt more pressure against the button to her release and was amazed to see that her reflection was grinding herself against her husband's hand. Joseph whispered in her ear "you are incredible Clarisse. Bend forward slightly and spread your legs."

Clarisse's eyes went wide as she realized her husband's intentions. They had never explored their love life from this …angle…before. She was hesitant, did he mean to… ? Joseph's whisper interrupted her thoughts. "Trust me my love, you will know nothing but pleasure." She took comfort from him, and watched as her reflection accented to his request. He griped her hip as he easily slid inside of her.

She felt so full, so loved, so… "oh Joseph" she whispered as he began moving within her. She felt his hand on her back as he encouraged her to lean forward more over the vanity, bringing her face closer to the mirror. Joseph followed suit, keeping his mouth close to her ear.

He began thrusting within her, nibbling her ear. Her hand joined his on her hip as she began rocking back against him. She was close, and she could feel it on the verge of bursting forth. Her eruption and elation happened as she heard her husband whisper "watch yourself. See how you look as you come." The dam broke and Clarisse was whisked away into euphoria as she watched her face in the mirror. She felt her husband reach his release, and her eyes shifted to his stare in the mirror. That was one thing she would always treasure, the look of sheer love in her husband's gaze as he reached his peak.

They had returned to the party a little while later, thoroughly sated and completely happy. Everyone had remarked how young and vivacious their former queen had looked, and all assumed that the change had been due to the relinquishing of responsibilities of the monarchy. Clarisse had found it hard to keep her sense of humor in check by not saying that it wasn't the relinquishing of control of the Queen that made her happy, but the relinquishing her queen-sized control over her emotions that had. Well, that and a very sexy and robust husband.

* * *

For the Captain of puppy dog-eyes who has pestered my muse into writing this week, shame on you. Ha, just kidding. My muse has been active, so active in fact that she doesn't want to sit down and write. And now that it's becoming my busy season, I don't know when I'll have a chance to update. So, I'll give her a shot of viagra and valium and see what happens, but unfortunately, I can't guarantee anything.

So, keep me happy and write more fictions!


	18. The things you see

Greetings to my loyal readers. First off I want to say thank you to everyone who has left such wonderful comments. I really do appreciate them. Secondly, thanks for sticking in here with me as my busy season has prevented me from posting. I wanted to post saying "It's going to be a while" but I hate when I see that one of my favorite stories has an update only to discover it's not a _real _update. I didn't want to spread that kind of disappointment.

So, I'll go ahead and say this now. My muse is highly active at the moment, but unfortunately, work is crazy right now. I will try to update this weekend, but I'd place money on not updating until after April 15th. Sorry!

Lastly, Thanks to my super awesome Beta - Captain Weirdo. Who added a wonderful couple of lines to this chapter. And thanks for the thoughts of Cheetos and Dr. Pepper - she knows how to entice my muse! Here's a cup of tea to you, girl!

Now, on with the show. (Oh, add normal disclaimers here about I don't own anything except for the libidos and lingerie of the main characters.)

* * *

Their actions this morning had confirmed Clarisse's suspicions. There was just _something_ about this outfit that drove Joseph wild. The satisfied smirk on his face all but confirmed it. She turned from her husband, intent on getting up from the bed when she noticed the latest victim of their lovemaking. She'd had teddies, clothes and even sheets ripped in their desperate need to have each other, but as the mirth grew inside her she admitted she'd never thought this particular item of her wardrobe would fall victim to their rash actions. There, still clinging to the walls by their spiked heels, were her shoes that she'd put on this morning. They were about two feet apart, slightly turned outward, and stuck straight into the wall.

She supposed that the embarrassment that she would receive from having to have the wall patched would be a small price to pay for the thoroughly satisfying sex she'd just had with her husband. She had awoken a little earlier than her normal time, and deciding to make some head-way in some paperwork she'd promised to help Mia with, she'd showered and dressed. She had suspected that Joseph was awake and watching her dress, but every time she chanced a glace at the bed, he had been lying there with his eyes closed and a peaceful smile on his face. She had just finished dressing when the telephone rang. It was Pierre calling from Italy and although she had been quick to answer the phone, Joseph obviously could no longer sleep.

As she'd listened to Pierre speak about all of the wonderful sights of Italy, she'd taken a seat upon the bed, earning her a quick peck on the cheek from her adoring husband. She'd thought nothing of it until she felt his hand gently caressing her knee. She'd sent him a pleading look with her eyes as if to say "not now" to which he pointedly ignored.

She'd continued her conversation with Pierre, all the while, painfully aware of Joseph's wandering hands. It had started with just mild caresses to her thighs, but he'd soon moved into a kneeling position behind her. He'd begun kissing her neck and gently undoing each button of her jacket one by one, all the while Pierre babbling on and on about Virgin Mary's and Holy Fathers.

Pierre was enthusiastically describing a particularly moving service he'd attended at an ancient cathedral just as his step-father stepped up the enthusiastic service he was attending upon his mother's body.

"Oh, God!" Clarisse murmured, unaware that she'd spoken aloud.

"Exactly my thoughts Mother!" Pierre exclaimed before continuing his story.

She'd had to place her hand over the receiver to muffle her hard breathing as Joseph began gently biting her exposed neck. God what her husband could do to her! Of course, her actions hadn't helped much. When he'd begun fumbling with the fastener to her skirt, what had she done? Wedged the phone between her shoulder and ear, batted his hands away, and removed it herself. He had growled his approval, which unfortunately, Pierre had heard. Asking if everything was alright, she'd been extremely embarrassed. Yes, her son was in his forties, and understood the pleasures of love between a woman and her husband – but he didn't have to hear it firsthand! She wasn't sure if she was more embarrassed that she was allowing Joseph to fondle her with her son on the phone, or the stupid lie that was the first thing to pop into her mind. She'd made and excuse about how it had been her stomach hungry for breakfast and she was surprised that he could hear it through the telephone connection.

Pierre had quickly insisted that his mother listen to her appetite and had quickly ended the conversation. Clarisse had almost shrieked in relief as the call disconnected. As soon as the receiver had made the connection with the telephone base, she did shriek, but not from relief. Joseph quickly pushed her back against the mattress, upside down on the bed, then taken her legs and placed them on either side of him. He pulled her to him, bringing her feet close to the headboard. He kissed her silk-clad calf and confessed that he'd been watching her dress all morning. Then, with a devilish gleam in his eyes, he had unsnapped the crotch of her lingerie as she pulled at the hem of his pajama bottoms.

As she freed his erection, he swiftly moved to join their bodies. His earlier ministrations and confession had kicked her libido into high gear, rivaling his own. As he set the rhythm between them, she wanted something more, something deeper. She scooted closer to the headboard, and brought her legs up over his shoulders. Joseph planted his feet against the headboard and his arms underneath her, snaking up to clasp her shoulders. He began pushing himself harder and deeper into her, then pulling her back against him. She looked into her husband's eyes and was startled by the wild abandon she saw reflecting in them. He was touching her deeper than he ever had before. Suddenly, he pulled her hard against him, triggering her orgasm. She cried out in ecstasy, but still Joseph continued to thrust into her. Harder and deeper with each stroke, Clarisse was being jostled with each plunge. She felt almost as if she were going to split in two. Another hard thrust against her, and her breasts began to spill out above her lingerie.

Joseph's eyes darkened when he saw his wife's exposed nipples. Those two pert nipples had been the subject of many of his fantasies about her in his years of service to her. As each nipple began to play peek-a-boo with each thrust into her, his mouth began to water. No matter how many times he suckled her breasts, he still wanted more. He leaned down, intent on taking them in his mouth, when the change in the angle caused his wife to let out a slightly pained gasp. He quickly realized that he had unintentionally caused his wife pain. With her legs above his shoulders, his movement had caused her to practically fold in upon herself.

He looked to her eyes as if to apologize, but found her eyes tightly shut in delight. Without her lovely blue orbs to keep him mesmerized, he eyes were again drawn to her pert nipples. They were no longer playing peek-a-boo, as her chemise had finally given up the battle with her ample breasts, and simply let them spill out. Joseph watched as they practically danced for him every time he pulled his wife's body closer to his. They were mesmerizing – driving him on to a faster rhythm. As they began dancing to a new song, Joseph cried in delight as he found his release. He moved his wife's legs from his shoulders, then leaned down to kiss the twin temptresses that had driven him to such a wild pace.

His left hand found her right nipple and quickly began plucking it. His mouth found her left nipple, and quickly began lavishing it. Clarisse pushed herself into Joseph's mouth, wanting more, needing more. She knew he had found his release, but after her first climax, she was still in need of more. Realizing that her husband was probably tired from his earlier efforts, she began grinding herself against him in rhythm with his tongue. She firmly placed her feet against the wall above the headboard and began pushing herself off of him, only to have him pulling her back against him with his right hand.

Surprised, but not deterred by her actions, Joseph let her nipple drop from his mouth. He caught her eye, then with a wicked gleam, slowly licked the valley between her breasts. He nibbled at her neck, kissed her chin, then brought his mouth to hers for a proper good morning kiss. Her hands held him to her, their bodies gently rocking together. He gently bit her bottom lip as he ended their kiss. His left hand moved to where their bodies were joined and began gently stroking her in time to their rhythm. He picked up the tempo, and she began rocking faster against him. He whispered softly to her. "Come for me, Clarisse. One stroke, come for me." She felt her feet firmly plant into the wall, pushed herself away from him, felt him pull her back to him, and with a slight pinch from her husband's left hand, she came. Shouting in joy as she found her release.

Again, looking at the shoes, Clarisse could no longer contain her laughter. Giggles consumed her and she was rewarded with a "I do believe, my dear wife, that this is the _second_ time since we've been married that you've awoken from your sated state in a fit of giggles." This only caused her to laugh harder. Joseph, intent on finding the source of her mirth opened his eyes, and soon joined in with his wife's merriment.

Finally calming, Clarisse found her voice. "Oh Joseph, you simply _must_ tell me why I can't be around you when I wear this without finding myself half-clothed, out of breath, and _thoroughly_" she looked over at her husband and continued, "_very_ thoroughly sated."

Clarisse saw something in his eyes that she couldn't quite place. It wasn't exactly fear, more like embarrassment. After knowing each other nearly twenty five years, what could he possibly be embarrassed about? She could tell he was fighting an internal battle, but his conscious finally won out.

In a quiet voice, he replied. "I'll tell you my dear, but I'm afraid you'll find out you've married a dirty old man when I tell you why."

Curiosity piqued, Clarisse replied, "I've known for a while now that I married a dirty old man. You don't hear me complaining, do you? Dirty old man or not…I married you for better or for worse. Why _this" _she gestured to her skirt on the floor and the jacket barely hanging on to her shoulders "outfit?"


	19. Memories

Many many kudos (or would it be cheetos) to Captain Weirdo for beta'ing this sucker for me. She' so wonderful. And I guess I should also thank her for the Cheetos and Dr. Pepper she sends via e-mail so I'll write. I raise my cup of tea to you.

To everyone else, thank you so much for your kind reviews. This started out as a 1-2 chapter ditty that has just gotten out of control. As it looks right now, I'll be winding this story up very soon. Thanks for everything!

8:30 pm A/N: Something happened when I originally posted this and some of the words just got left out - which lead to BAD gramatics. So, hopefully this will fix it.

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"Independence Day." He sighed 

"Independence Day?"

"Do you remember the night of the Independence Day ball in America?"

"Of course, but darling, I wasn't wearing this outfit then." Clarisse was confused.

"No, but that is when it started." He noticed her perplexed look. "Let's get more comfortable and I'll tell you my dirty little secrets." He playfully kissed her, trying to turn it into something more. She would have none of it – she wanted to hear the story. He moved off of the bed, turning the sheets down, and propping the pillows against the headboard. He smirked as he took her heels out of the wall. "Are you sure I can't interest you in another round?" he asked playfully tapping her shoes together.

She had the smug look of a contented cat as she took off her half-opened jacket and adjusted her lingerie. "You've had your fun, now I want my story." He crawled into bed with her, allowing her to cuddle against him. She added, "and if you're a really good boy, I will put the outfit back on and clear my schedule this evening." She was rewarded with a growl of appreciation from her husband.

"As I was saying….the night of the ball. Mia had accepted her duty as princess, and you had fulfilled yours as queen by dancing with the dignitaries that night. Do you remember what happened after the ball?" He looked down at her.

"You kissed my hand as we left." She smiled up at him.

"Yes, but after that?" When she shook her head no, he continued. "I escorted you to your room, made the customary sweep of the room, and then stood guard for quite some time."

"Really?"

"Of course. There were various people all over the consulate that evening, and as your chief of security, I felt that I needed to close at hand that night." She smiled up at him. "You had, apparently, chosen to spend that night with a book and a cup of tea." She looked at him questioningly, 'How did he know what she did?'

"Are you saying there were cameras in my room?"

"No, but the walls are paper thin." He looked at her; her curiosity was definitely piqued. '_Good,'_ he thought. "Around midnight I heard you call my name, followed by the sound of something breaking. I quickly opened the door, only to find you asleep on the chaise with a broken teacup on the floor." She looked as if she was about to say something, but he continued before she could she speak. "You looked so beautiful sleeping there, so peaceful. I turned to leave your room when you called my name again." He looked at her and smirked, "you were dreaming of me."

She sat up from his embrace. She knew that she had had fantasies about Joseph prior to them declaring their love for each other, but she wasn't sure how she felt to know that he had been privy to it. She didn't want to address that at the moment though. She stated the first thing that came to her mind. "I woke up in my bed the next day, how did I get there?"

"I carried you," was his simple reply.

"What?" She was aghast. Had she and Joseph done something torrid that she wasn't even aware of?

"Although you looked peaceful on that lovely chaise, your robe falling off of you, your pajamas molding to your _wonderful_ curves…" She blushed. "I knew you would not be comfortable in the morning. So, I gathered you in my arms, and took you to your bed."

She smiled at him. She noted that he didn't seem inclined to continue, so she asked. "And how does that little incident explain your recent behavior?" She crawled over him, straddling him.

"Well, would telling you that I took a leisurely stroll through your closet that night help?" Her eyebrow arched in question. "I noticed the outfit that your ladies maids had set out for you for your return trip home, and it didn't look very… comfortable. It was a ghastly woolen thing, so I took the liberty to pick out your attire for the next day."

"This outfit?" She asked, gesturing to the pile of clothes next to the bed.

"Yes." He grinned.

"And that's why you can't keep your hands off of me when I wear it? Because _you_ picked it out for me? And I wore it for you?" She asked incredulously. She leaned over him.

"Mmmm, hmmm." He replied. His hands began to work their way from her back down to her bottom, caressing her.

"Joseph?" She purred at him. She began nibbling his ear.

"Yes, my darling?" He caressed her round globes, pulling her against him. God, what she could do with her mouth.

She gently bit his lobe and whispered "I didn't bring this outfit to America." She sat up, and looked at him. He could see the hurt in her eyes. He had lied to her, and she knew it.

Confusion and hurt clouded her eyes and her heart. Why had Joseph lied to her? She moved to get off of him. She didn't want to be near him at the moment. Not when she had thought he was taking her inquiry seriously. Instead, he had lied to her, wanting her to believe his flimsy story.

"Clarisse?!" The unshed tears that filled her eyes were close to brimming out. She got out of bed and quickly moved to the bathroom, locking the door. He chased after her, but she was too quick.

"Clarisse!" He tried the door, locked. He banged on it, "Clarisse, let me in!"

Clarisse stood on the other side of the door, her back to it, her heart broken. The man whom she thought she could trust implicitly had just lied to her. Why would he lie so blatantly about something as seemingly insignificant as this? Why couldn't he just tell her the truth? She sank to the floor, her heart-wrenching sobs echoing in the bathroom, and shattering her husband's heart.

What had he done? Had he really just broken his wife's heart for protection of his male ego? Could he really tell her the truth? He sank to the floor, his back against the door to the bathroom. "Clarisse?" His question was answered with her continued sobs. "My love, I'm sorry. I….I just can't confess to you my ….why….I just can't."

She heard his plea, but she didn't want to listen to him. If he had said this earlier, rather than lying to her, she might have understood. But instead he had lied to her. "Go away, just….go away." Her tear ravaged voice only conveyed a portion of the anguish that her heart felt.

Joseph sat at the door to their bathroom for what felt like hours. His male pride was not worth listening to his wife's sobs. She had cried for so long that her tears had given way to anger. He heard her call him every name in the book, and then some. Her anger was understandable; he had broken her trust over something far too trivial to justify such a betrayal. She had been jovially playing a detective game with him, trying to uncover clues to his libido. Little did she know that she was trying to uncover clues that brought him shame. His darkest secrets were about to be aired to his wife – a secret of his fascination for her and the fantasies that he had long harbored.

He knew that she knew that he was still outside the bathroom door. Had she thought he had left, she surely would have come out to retrieve more clothing than just the skimpy lingerie that she entered the bathroom wearing. But she had made no move to try and exit, which meant that she didn't want to see him, nor did she want to talk to him. He took a deep breath, swallowed his male pride and began his confession.

"Clarisse…." He heard her moving around in the bathroom, moving away from the door. He looked up to the ceiling, as if asking for help from God. "Clarisse….I….I have fantasized about you in that dress for nearly fifteen years now. I…It was a moment of weakness for me, it shouldn't have happened, but God help me, I've wanted you ever since…" he swallowed, how was he supposed to tell her? "Ever since you wrapped your legs around me and asked me to protect you."

He heard her moving again, this time towards the door. He didn't expect her to open it, and she didn't. Instead, he felt the door move a bit, almost as if she'd leaned up against it, waiting for him to tell her the truth. Waiting for him to mend her heart. He began his story anew, this time honestly and sincerely.

"You were so enchanting that day, the sun was high in the sky, there was a crispness to the air, and you….everyone had turned out to see you. The French President had finished his speech, and you had just stepped up to the podium to give yours. It was a bit breezy that day and ….and the wind caught your skirt. Nothing too drastic, mind you, but just enough that it caught my attention. You were wearing these silk stockings that stopped mid thigh – and your skirt had blown up just enough to give me a glimpse of your heavenly legs. Granted, I had always watched you as you walked, but that day….that day you seemed to float on air. I was so mesmerized by you, your sultry voice thanking the President for welcoming you. How you described to the crowd that 260 years prior on that day, Genovia and France had struck an alliance, not as a country and its protesting offspring but as two independent countries. Joined in harmony for the first time following 3 years of battle prior to that. As you spoke, the wind kept whipping your skirt, keeping me captivated on your legs. Then, you moved, shaking the President's hand. Just as you two parted, I saw him. God, Clarisse, I barely saw him. I had been too fixated on you and not your surroundings, and I….I almost cost you your life."

He struggled to continue. He heard her weeping again –and he knew. He knew that she realized what he was talking about. The day an attempt had been made on her life. "I had been distracted, something I should have never let happen. You're supposed to keep your eyes on your target and their surroundings. But that day, I couldn't take my eyes off of you, no matter how hard I tried. Thank God when you moved suddenly, my eyes caught the glint of the gun. I…I didn't have time to think, I just reacted."

Silence hung in the air. Clarisse had been listening to her husband describe one of the most frightening days of her life. She remembered it all so clearly. She had just finished her speech, shook the President's hand and was moving to take a customary photo. She had just begun to take the President's hand again when she was suddenly pushed very forcefully to the ground, and as her body hit the ground, she heard the gunshot. After that, it all became a haze of activity, eventually winding up in the emergency room. She tried to imagine where his story was going, and how in the world it could relate to his sexual appetite. Still hurt from his previous tale, she chose to remain silent. She knew he would continue when he was ready.

Joseph took a deep breath, afraid of the consequences of continuing, yet more afraid not to continue. "I should have been paying attention; I should have had more time to protect you. Instead, I came within seconds of losing you. All I could think of was getting to you, covering you, protecting you. If I had been watching the crowd, you wouldn't have been hurt." He looked at the door, praying for her to understand what he was about to say. "Clarisse, the look in your eyes as I covered you that day, shook me to my core. I had never seen you so frightened in my life. You grabbed a hold of me, pulling me down over you, wrapping your arms and legs around me, asking me to protect you. The fear and emptiness I saw I've only seen one other time in my life. God, Clarisse, that look still haunts me at night. We had to get you out of there, but, you were so shaken, you wouldn't let go of me." He thought about how tightly her body had been wrapped around him there on that podium. She had held him tightly to her, tighter to her than the way she did when they made love.

"So, I struggled to my feet, you wrapped tightly around me. Not the best way to try and cover you while running to the car, but I don't think I could've let you go if I tried. I knew you were safe as long as I could keep a hold of you. That day….that day I finally understood what it meant to give my life for you. I would do it again without hesitation if it meant you would be safe."

On the other side of the door, a tender smile graced Clarisse's lips. He _had_ been willing to give his life for her, and she thanked him for it every day. Had he not been there, she was sure she'd have preceded Rupert to their tomb.

"We made it back to the limo, and you and I fell to the floor of the car, you still wrapped tightly around me. The other security detail climbed in with us. I looked down, and all I could see was blood. You were still calling my name over and over, your face was ghostly pale. I couldn't tell where you had been shot, but I knew with that much blood, there had to be a gunshot wound somewhere. I ripped off your jacket, and still there was blood all over your chest, I thought I had failed you. I thought…" tears were in his eyes, "I thought I was losing you. I frantically tore at your blouse – your bra - trying desperately to stop the bleeding, trying to find where the madman's bullet had slipped past me." He was sobbing now, reliving the horror of his love covered in blood. He pleaded with her, "I swear, I never felt it, I…I didn't even know it was me. All I saw was blood and I knew it had to be you. I've never felt fear like that before. The last thing I remember before I blacked out was you. Your clothes hanging off of you, blood everywhere, and you screaming my name."

He never heard her move, he never even heard the door unlock, or felt it open. He was suddenly in his wife's embrace, her soothing voice trying to calm him. She pulled him to her on the floor, gently rocking him, offering him the solace of her arms.

Finding peace within his wife's embrace – he knew he had to continue. He had to tell her why. "The next thing I remember was I was in the hospital, the king standing over me. The first words out of my mouth were 'she's dead.' I knew you were dead, and I knew it was my fault. It should have been me that died. There I was, supposed to protect you, and all I could do was ogle you. His majesty said something, but to this day, I couldn't tell you what it was. All I heard was 'she's alive'. I have never felt so much relief in my life. That night…that's when the dreams started."

She stopped rocking him, and slackened her hold to look at him. He whispered, "that's when I became enslaved by the… the fantasies. All that kept running through my mind was you. Your legs wrapped around me, holding me tightly to you. Your breasts open to my gaze – to my hands, you screaming my name in ecstasy. You above me, riding me as you chant my name as you bring yourself closer to climax." He wouldn't look at her. "Only later did I realize _where_ these fantasies were coming from. After my initial awakening from surgery, I didn't really remember why or how I had been hospitalized. I don't know if it was the drugs or the loss of blood, but I just couldn't remember. All I could see was you, calling to me, beckoning me to stay with you."

"I did," she said quietly. He looked up at her. She recited what her mind's eye saw – she hadn't really remembered anything about that day until now. "You…you passed out shortly after tearing open my bra. I realized it was you who had been hit almost immediately, and I had been screaming at you to try and snap out of it. You fell on me; I rolled you over, and began stripping you to the waist. The other security men knew someone was hurt, and had already proceeded to tell the driver to go to the hospital. The wound…I couldn't get it to stop bleeding. The car was rocking so much from the speed at which we were driving; I couldn't get a good compress on the wound. I was crying, begging and pleading with you to stay with me. You opened your eyes once, gave a very serene smile, and then you suddenly became very still. I was hysterical; I thought you were dieing. I couldn't let you die…not without you knowing."

She looked down at him, and realized that this was the time for _her_ confession. "I couldn't let you die without you knowing how much you meant to me. How much…." Her voice dropped to a whisper, tears brimming her eyes, "how much I loved you."


	20. Her Love

"You what?…" Joseph looked deeply into his wife's eyes. Had he heard her correctly? She was in love with him even then?

"I…I loved you." She looked at him, her eyes brimming with tears. Only this time, they were tears of joy, and not ones of sorrow like she had shed earlier. Sensing that her husband was about to ask her more questions, she lovingly placed her fingers over his mouth, as if to stop the oncoming words. She needed time, time to collect her feelings and to make him understand. She moved to sit with her husband, their backs against the wall to the bathroom. Seeing that she was searching for the right words, and not wanting to push her, Joseph wrapped his arm gently around her. Giving her support for what he knew would be a confession she hadn't intended to make.

Clarisse snuggled into her husband's embrace, her head naturally finding it's place on his shoulder. She couldn't count how many times she had been in this position over the years – her head on his shoulder, trying to gleam strength from him. Leaning on him for support…just being near him. It had always been a friendly gesture, one that was never sexual or sensual – but more of an 'I'm here for you when you need me' gesture. One that, in later years, had opened her eyes to Joseph as a man, and not just as her bodyguard and friend.

Clarisse took a deep breath and sighed, it was time to tell him. "Do you remember when Rupert and I took a vacation to Paris?"

Joseph tried to remember their various trips through the years, and couldn't quite recall exactly which trip she was remembering. "Vaguely" he replied.

"It was about twenty years ago. Phillipe had just come back from America, and was in a dour mood. His father had told him that he _must_ make a decision concerning Amelia and Helen."

"Ah…now _that_ trip I remember." He looked fondly down at his wife, who was still curled up against him. He tenderly kissed the top of her head and whispered, "what of it?"

She didn't look up at him but continued her story. "As I recall, Rupert had decided that we needed to just get away from Genovia, away from the pressures of royalty, and let Phillipe decide what he wanted to do. Because of the short planning of the vacation, we ended up staying in a hotel rather than with the French President." She paused, trying to remember the circumstances, unsuccessfully. "We were so cramped in the suite, but we managed to make due."

Joseph chuckled. He was beginning to remember this particular trip. The royal family was in the penthouse suite of a hotel, and Clarisse and Rupert had considered it _cramped_. "Darling, you don't know the half of it…the entire security team was forced to share 2 bedrooms. Imagine 20 men sharing 4 beds, now _that_ was cramped." She looked up at him a bit confused. He elaborated, "because of the short timing, much of the hotel was booked. There were two rooms available, and we took them. Not to mention, we were fortunate enough to be able to use one of the bedrooms of the royal suite." He chuckled. "As head of security, I deemed that to be _my_ room."

Clarisse smiled, she had remembered _that_ part of the trip. "Yes, and somehow your room managed to be next door to mine?"

"And his Majesty's." he completed for her. It had been logical, really. He took the bedroom that was in between his majesty's and Clarisse's. If anything had been needed by either one of them, he would be close by.

She grinned and remembered fondly their first day on the trip. She had gone into the adjoining bedroom, assuming it was Rupert's. Not finding him in the bedroom, but seeing the bathroom door slightly ajar, she had assumed he was taking a shower. She had knocked as she opened the door, and to her surprise, there had been her head of security where she had expected to find her husband. Instead of an older, soft-around-the-middle king, she had found the younger, hard-bodied, slightly damp, head of security wearing nothing but a towel. She had stood in the doorway, trying not to stare. Her mouth gaping open, he feet firmly planted to the floor, and her eyes – her eyes had been riveted to his sculpted chest. "Did you need something, your majesty?" he had asked. She still hadn't been able to move. She felt her head move from side to side, and her mouth move up and down, but no words would come out. He eyes had followed a droplet of moisture from his neck, down past his flat male nipples to his washboard stomach, on through the smattering of dark hair below his belly button to where it disappeared beneath the white towel. She felt her mouth go dry when she realized exactly _where_ she'd been looking. She looked back up at him quickly, her eyes very wide. This time, as her mouth moved, she heard the words "Rupert…I was looking for Rupert." He had proceeded to tell her that her husband was in the next room over, and she had hastened as fast as she could out of Joseph's room.

A nudge from her husband brought her back to the present. She had been telling him something. _What?_ Her mind screamed. Even now, some twenty years later, that image of Joseph in nothing but his towel still did things to her.

"Oh ehrm…as I was saying, Rupert had told Phillipe that he must make a decision concerning the throne of Genovia. Phillipe was so torn, he didn't know where his loyalties should be." She felt her husband nod in agreement. "He had come to me, asking for my opinion, asking for me to make the decision for him. I told him that I couldn't decide for him, that it was up to him."

She straightened in his embrace, moving her head from his shoulder to against the wall. She looked down at her wedding ring and began twirling it with her right thumb and finger. "I…I know he asked you about what you thought he should do." He looked over at her, surprised that she knew of his conversation with the young prince. "I couldn't help but overhear what you said to him." He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. Had she really heard what he had said? "You told him that he needed to figure out not only where his loyalties were, but where he could do the greater good. If his love for his young daughter and wife was greater than his love for his country, then he should renounce his title. But, if he thought that the love for his country could possibly change the world, then he should seriously consider returning to Genovia."

"I did" he replied quietly.

"At that moment, I knew. We'd been friends for quite some time, but at that moment, seeing you guide my son to follow his heart, I knew what I felt for you was more than friendship. You didn't tell him to renounce his throne, and yet, you didn't tell him to abandon his daughter. You told him to follow his heart…and that's all any of us can hope to do." She looked over at him and smiled, which he returned as he pulled her close to him again.

He leaned over to her, his lips just barely caressing her ear and whispered "And here I thought it was the image of me in a towel that set your heart afire."

"Oh tosh!" she playfully shoved him away from her, her cheeks beginning to flame in embarrassment.

He laughed aloud at her. "It wasn't?" he asked sarcastically.

"No!" She laughed at his antics. Sometimes, he could be so incorrigible. _Well, might as well_ she thought. "That was later."

He pulled her closer and began nuzzling her ear. "How much later?"

His warm breath against her neck was doing things to her. His smell, so raw and musky brought back memories of the night she realized she actually _wanted_ him. She leaned her head to give him more room to work his magic.

She felt his teeth graze her earlobe, then felt his tongue as he suckled her. She moaned in discontent as she realized he wasn't going to further his ministrations until she answered him. He continued to suckle her ear, teasing her senses into giving in. "Fifteen years."

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A/N: Thanks to everyone who's e-mailed me asking for an update. Life has, essentially, gotten in the way of writing. But, in honor of my birthday, here's a birthday present for those of you who have been patiently waiting for a new chapter. And yes...it looks like it is still "TBC" LOL


	21. Wangoed

A/N: Many thanks to the Captain of my Beta...Captain Weirdo.

There are a few flashbacks in this one - hopefully you can follow the various breaks, etc.

'Fifteen years.'

That phrase kept running rampant through Joseph's mind. After his wife's confession that morning, they had been interrupted before she had been able to tell him much more than that. After their ardent round of lovemaking, and his transgression of lying to her, he had hoped to spend the day with her, to make up for his stupidity. But, the best laid plans of mice and men...

Mia had interrupted their second interlude of the morning, asking for help concerning some various treaties that were in their final stages. Sensing she was torn between her husband and her granddaughter, Joseph had encouraged Clarisse to assist with her granddaughter. As much as he hated to be separated from her, he knew that she felt the need to help Mia as much as possible.

'Fifteen years…which means it was about 6 years ago' he thought. 'A lot happened six years ago.' Rupert had died nearly eight years ago, and Philippe nearly 7…and Mia. Mia had found a way into her grandmother's life 6 years ago. Joseph smiled; it had been Mia that had been the turning point in their relationship. Mia who gave Clarisse hope, Mia who brought her grandmother out of her depression…Mia who brought them together.

He had taught Mia how to dance; how to 'Wango' as the young woman described it. He had spent all afternoon teaching her how to spin, how to twirl, how _not_ to look like a doggy on a dashboard. All the while, Clarisse had sat nearby, occasionally looking up at their progress. And finally, Mia had danced well enough for her grandmother's approval, well enough to leave. Clarisse had been so tired, so worn from watching her granddaughter try to blossom quickly, that Joseph had felt the need to do something for Clarisse…and so _they_ had danced. _They_ wango'ed, _they_ spun, and _they_ moved together like swans on a lake. He had told her that day that he thought she had been wearing black too long, and shortly thereafter, she began wearing other colors. She began to be "Clarisse" again, and _not_ the Queen in mourning. 'It must've been that dance.' He thought.

"Hello darling." His wife breezed into their suite. Joseph looked up with a cheesy grin on his face…he knew his wife's secret.

"The wango?" he asked.

"I beg your pardon?" She looked at him quite confused.

"The wango." He stated it as if she should know exactly what he was talking about. He looked at her and realized that he might have miscalculated her feelings…she had no clue what he was talking about. "When you first wanted me, was it during the wango?"

The look of utter shock on her face was priceless. 'Ha! I knew it!' he thought. But then, his ego was taken down 4 notches, when instead of the embarrassed blush he expected to see on her face, all she did was laugh.

"Is that what you've been doing all day? Trying to figure out when I knew I was in love with you?" She shook her head in merriment and continued to chuckle.

"Well, it wasn't _exactly_ what I had planned to do all day. I had hoped that you would re-join me at lunch for some extracurricular activities." He gave her a wink.

She joined him on the couch with a sigh and closed her eyes. A faint smile graced her lips. "I would've loved to…but unfortunately, Portugal isn't agreeing to our terms of the treaty."

Joseph looked at his wife, and realized that she was a bit more tired than she let on. She had been helping Mia quite frequently lately, and with their penchant for making love, he wondered where she had gotten _any_ energy at all.

* * *

"I believe I was in the bathtub the first time I realized I was in love with you." Those were the first words his wife had uttered in quite some time. After observing exactly how tired she was, Joseph had taken it upon himself to pamper her a bit. He had drawn her a hot bubble bath, and insisted that she take time to relax. She had insisted that he join her, and they had been relaxing in the tub for quite some time. She was lying back against him, her head on his shoulder, his legs wrapped around her, his arms encircling her.

"Oh, really?" He couldn't help but smile. So, his wife had fantasized about him.

"Mmm hmm. You had made me so angry that afternoon that I had drawn a bath just to relax." She smiled at the memory and turned slightly to look at him. "Although, this bath has a _much_ nicer view." He smiled and tightened his embrace.

"And what did I do to make you so angry?" He knew that he and Clarisse had had different points of view on topics over the years, but he couldn't really recall ever having made her truly angry at him.

"You were right." She looked up at him mischievously.

He laughed. "Well, it does happen on occasion." He knew she hated being wrong, but she hated being proven wrong more than that.

She chuckled. "If that damn trolley car hadn't been there, I would've been right."

_Now_ he was confused. What did a trolley car have to do with him, or much less him being right? "Clarisse, I'm afraid I don't follow what you're saying. What trolley car?"

"The one Mia ran into in San Francisco…"

"Ah!" Now he remembered. "But, I thought you said this morning that you were in love with me twenty years ago?"

He felt her shake her head. "No, I said that I realized that our friendship was more than just 'friendship' that there was love there. But I didn't _fall_ _in love_ with you until San Francisco."

"Ah, so it _was_ the Wango."

"No! Would you just listen?" She was getting exasperated by his questions.

"Mmmm, go on." He gave her a kiss on her temple and waited for her to continue.

"It wasn't the wango, per say, it was _everything_ you did for Mia on that trip. Everything you did for me." She sighed as she reminisced. "That night after the dinner…it was your encouragement that helped me see Mia not as my future queen but as my granddaughter."

_Joseph had returned from taking Princess Mia home and found Charlotte in a bit of a tizzy. After seeing the guests out of the consulate, the Queen had insisted on doing more work that evening. Seeing Charlotte's distressed state, he entered her Majesty's office without an invitation, and was greeted by a stern glare. One that any other person would have taken as a gesture of "not now", but not Joseph. He knew that she was brooding over the evening's various disasters…a minor fire, broken glass, and flying fruit. Not to mention Mia attempting to become a wall-flower as they enjoyed coffee only to have Lord Fricker spill his drink all over her before knocking her into the harp, which set off another chain of events that lead to the Baroness Von Troken being soaked by a knocked over flower vase._

"_Your majesty…" he had started to tell her that she needed to call it an evening._

"_Not now, Joseph." She had said through tightly closed lips. She continued to work, ignoring the other occupants in the room. Joseph looked at Charlotte and indicated with a nod of his head that she should leave them alone. Charlotte looked from Joseph to the Queen, undecided as to what she should do. She realized that Joseph could possibly calm the Queen's nerves, but if he failed and she left the room – she could be the next victim of the Queen's anger._

"_I'll go get you some tea your majesty." That would give her an excuse to leave, but also a reason to rejoin them if Joseph failed. He followed her to the door and shut it behind her, leaving him alone with the monarch._

"_Clarisse…"_

_She looked up at him and glared. "I said, not now."_

"_Yes, now!" He bristled his response._

_She slammed her pen down. "What do you want me to say? She's not ready? Fine! She's not ready. She's not ready to rule my country. She's not ready to take over the monarchy." She stood from her seat in anger and walked over to him. "Is that what you wanted to hear? That I've failed my one duty as queen? To produce an heir to the Renaldi line?"_

"_Is that what you think?" He asked._

"_Isn't that what everyone thinks? Philippe was ready to take over the throne, Parliament was ready for him, I was ready for him. And now? Now there's nobody. After tonight, there will be no one left who will rule. How can I expect to present her to Parliament when I can't even present her to other dignitaries?" She turned and walked towards the window. She didn't want to look at him; she didn't want to see the disappointment in his eyes. The disappointment of her country…the disappointment that a Renaldi rule was coming to an end._

_There was a faint knock on the door. 'Charlotte with the tea' he thought. He quietly opened the door and took the tray from the young assistant, and again dismissed her. Clarisse needed a friend tonight. Not her bodyguard, not her assistant, and most definitely not any more work._

_Clarisse heard the clattering of the tea tray but refused to acknowledge it. She continued to look out into the night's sky. She wondered if she had made the right decision all those years ago. Rupert wanted more children, she didn't. She had provided him with what was known as the "heir and a spare" and had asked that she not have to have any more. She loved her sons; loved being a mother, but the process of producing the heirs was something that she had always felt uncomfortable with. The entire palace staff always knew when the royal couple was being intimate, and it was a bit daunting to her. So, once Philippe was born, she asked to have separate rooms. It's not that she didn't love Rupert...she did. She just needed her space, needed room, needed to be her own person. And now? Now she was alone. _

_Pierre was with the church, Philippe and Rupert were both in their graves and her only grandchild was regretting the day she ever met her grandmother._

_She felt Joseph move behind her before she saw the cup of tea being offered in front of her. She smiled as she took the offered cup. "Join me." She heard him whisper as she felt a hand on her back. How could she say no to that? There was always something comforting about Joseph. They sat on the couch in companionable silence. He rested his arm against the back of the couch, she sat near him, gazing into the brown liquid as if to glean wisdom from it._

"_Was I wrong?" She looked up to him for the answer. He looked at her, not knowing the answer. Not really understanding the question. "Was I wrong to ignore her for fifteen years?"_

"_No." His hand moved to her shoulder and gently squeezed. 'So this is what's bothering her…not Parliament, not the royal line, it's Mia.' He thought._

"_She told me that she didn't have a family with me because I ignored her for fifteen years." That statement had been plaguing her for days._

"_She was confused." He looked at the woman sitting on the couch, and he began to understand exactly how broken she was. She had lost her husband and son in a matter of eighteen months, and now, she was fighting to hold together the only bit of family she had left. "As I drove her home this evening, do you know what concerned her the most? That she had let you down."_

"_Well, as a future queen…"_

"_No Clarisse, not that she had let the Queen down, that she had let her grandmother down." She stared at him blankly. "She wants to impress you…she wants you to love her."_

"_I do…" She looked at him, allowing him to see the confusion in her eyes._

_He took a deep breath before he continued. "No, Clarisse, you love her because she is Philippe's daughter. You don't know your granddaughter."_

"_I've spent time with her…"_

"_To groom her, yes. But have you spent time with her? Have you gotten to know who she is?"_

"_Well, I…" She sighed. He had a point. "I guess I haven't." She looked down at her empty cup. 'What do I do now?' she thought. He took the cup from her hands and placed it on the table in front of them. He leaned back against the couch, and this time, he pulled her close to him. She leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder._

"_Well, we will change that." He began stroking her back, trying to ease some of the tension from her body._

"It was lying there, wrapped in your arms that I knew I was in love with you."

"I loved you too." He kissed her neck, showing her his affection.

"mmm" She relaxed against him. There was just something about her husband that made all of her tension go away.

"I do believe you mentioned a bathtub?" He kissed her ear.

She chuckled and smiled. "Mmm hmm, but that was the next day."

"Mmm hmmm, you mean the day I was right."

_After spending most of the night wrapped in Joseph's arms on the couch, Clarisse awoke in a chipper mood. She spent the morning in the small conservatory of the consulate. It was there she decided to take Joseph's words to heart and get to know her granddaughter. Her first surprise had come with Amelia wanting to show her grandmother her 'baby.' _

_Joseph took them to the auto shop to pick up the car, and that's when the argument ensued. Joseph had insisted that he join them for the day, after all, the queen and the princess needed protection, Clarisse had insisted that she needed the day alone with Amelia. It finally ended when Clarisse pulled rank on Joseph by saying that it had been his idea that she get to know her granddaughter better and that if he accompanied them, then it would be difficult for her not to be 'queen'._

_He hadn't agreed with that logic, but finally was forced to give in when Clarisse told him that she would be with Amelia alone for the day and that was final._

_They had spent a wonderful afternoon together, going to an arcade, eating a corndog, and even taking a stroll along the ocean. Joseph had spent the day pacing the floor of the consulate, every siren and loud noise working him into a tizzy. When they finally arrived back at the consulate some five hours later, escorted in a police car, Joseph lost it. He had Shades drive Amelia home while he went to talk to the Queen about her behavior._

_He knocked on the door to her private chamber. After receiving an invitation to enter, he was greeted with the sight of the Queen with a broad smile on her face. "Oh, isn't she wonderful, Joseph?"_

"_Yes, your majesty…"_

"_I want to thank you for encouraging me to get to know her better. She's really an inquisitive young woman."_

"_Yes, your majesty."_

"_I don't think I've had that much fun since…well, since I can't remember." _

"_Getting into an accident and being escorted in a police car is fun? Not to mention that I spent all afternoon absolutely frightened for your life." He was angry. How could she not understand that what she and the princess had done was irresponsible, reckless, and dangerous?_

"_Oh Joseph, it wasn't like that…it…"_

_She never got to finish. He raised his voice at her, to which she raised her voice at him, and the argument ensued. Their second argument of the day…or was it a technically a continuation of the first? Either way, they yelled and ranted at each other for a good twenty minutes before he finally stormed out of her suite. She was visibly angry and absolutely furious at him. They didn't speak for the rest of the day. By evening, she was still tense from their argument, and decided to relax in a nice hot bath._

_She laid in the water with bubbles up to her neck, relaxing against the cool porcelain, trying to forget about the argument, but that's all that she could think of. She closed her eyes, and allowed the argument to replay in her mind. He had been right; she needed to get to know Amelia. And she had, thanks to their wonderful day in the city. But he had also been right…she needed him with her. It was only by her quick thinking that they didn't have to go to the police station. She could just see the headlines now "Queen Clarisse and Princess Mia…Genovia's Thelma and Louise". She chuckled to herself…it was quite funny that they didn't believe her. She took a deep breath and let the therapy of the bubbles overtake her._

"_A Queen should never be out in public without her security team."_

"_I wasn't being the queen today, I was being a grandmother."_

"_Clarisse, you can't pick and choose what you are. You ARE Queen, and I should be with you at all times, and if not me, then somebody from my staff." He roared at her._

"_I can take care of myself." She was indignant on that point._

"_No you can't." He laughed at her._

"_I think I proved today that I can."_

"_That was dumb luck that you weren't seriously injured." He was pacing the floor; she tried to stay out of his way._

"_I could've been injured if you were driving. It was the car's fault, not Mia's." He looked at her with fury in his eyes. No she wouldn't have been hurt, he wouldn't allow it._

"_But, I need to know that you're safe at all times. I need to know." He walked up to her and placed her hands on his shoulders._

"_Why?"_

"_Because I need to know." His face was inches from hers._

"_Why?"_

"_Because…" And then his lips were pressed against hers. She felt his hard body pressing her into the wall. His tongue plundered her mouth, taking all that she would give him. She opened her mouth, trying to protest, but all she could do was surrender. She felt his hands in her hair, holding her close to him; his lips began moving from her mouth to her ear. Then she felt his hot tongue on her neck and all she could do was moan his name…_

"_Joseph." She awoke with a start and sat up in the tub. Her breathing was labored, her pulse quick, and she was…where was she? She looked around trying to orient herself. 'I was taking a bath and must have fallen asleep.' And then what? Why had she awoken so suddenly? It was all a bit of a haze to her_. _She _

_remembered her argument with Joseph, how he had berated her for not taking a security detail with her, and then….? Then what? Her hand moved to her lips. He hadn't kissed her. That she was sure of – but why had she dreamed that he had?_

"I dreamed about you that night…there in the tub. Just like I had dreamed of you the night prior, and other nights, I'm sure."

"Hmm, serves you right, you had invaded my dreams for many, many nights."

"Yes, but that was the first time I knew it was _you_ that I had been dreaming about. That it was you my heart longed for, you whose kisses I wanted, you who stirred my soul."

"Ah, so is that why you kissed me?"


	22. Kisses

A/N: It seems my lovely beta isn't checking her e-mails this evening, so I decided to go ahead and update and make you kiddies happy. So, here's the un-beta'd, fresh off the screne update.

* * *

"That was completely by accident." She looked at him with a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes. "Well, mostly by accident."

"Yes, I'm sure that you hadn't quite planned it." He kissed her head and reminisced with her.

* * *

_The previous night had been absolutely glorious. Mia had accepted the title as Princess of Genovia, the Von Trokens' bid for the throne had been stopped, and Clarisse had slept soundly for the first time in years._

_She hated to leave the day after the ball, but after spending three weeks in America, her duties back home in Genovia were calling, and she had to answer. And, now that Mia had agreed to accept her heritage, a plethora of activities needed to be done. Mia needed to move to Genovia – to learn about the country. Clarisse needed to prepare Parliament for her granddaughter's arrival and various other things. The only problem was – she was due to leave for Genovia that morning and there was no way that Mia could be ready to leave. She did, after all, have school to complete for the year, clothes to pack, and various other issues to handle. _

_Clarisse knew that Mia couldn't leave, and yet, she couldn't stay with her granddaughter. 'Joseph' she thought. 'Joseph would be the perfect one to stay and protect Mia.' Unaware of the early hour, Clarisse made her way to his room and knocked on the door. Hearing the call to enter, she opened the door, expecting to find Joseph in his customary black pants and black shirt. Instead, she found her head of security still in bed. Seeing who his guest was, Joseph immediately clamored out of bed._

"_Your majesty!" He was groping to find his robe. Clarisse couldn't help but notice his state of dress…or rather, lack thereof. She couldn't help but wonder if the man had _any_ color of clothing other than black. She tried hard not to stare at his bare chest, or his arms, his legs, his...her eyes quickly diverted back to his face. _

"_Joseph, I have a request of you…"_

"_Anything, your majesty."_

"_I would like for you to stay here in America with Mia until she's ready to move to Genovia."_

_Hurrying into his robe, he wasn't quite sure if he had heard her correctly. "You mean, you would like to stay in America for a few more weeks…"_

"_No, I need to return to Genovia today, as planned."_

"_But, your majesty…"_

_Seeing the worry on his face, she implored him. "Please Joseph, I need someone who will watch after her…I need someone who I know will do the job to the fullest extent of his ability."_

"_But, your majesty…" He moved closer towards her, pleading with his eyes for her to understand him._

_She placed her hand tenderly on his cheek. "Joseph, your duty is to the royal family, not necessarily to me. Mia is the future of Genovia. She needs you – not Shades, not Brandon, not anybody else – she needs you to protect her. She needs the head of security." Seeing him acquiesce, she continued. "Besides, you've trained the entire security team. I'm safer with them at home in Genovia than I am here with the limited security staff."_

"_I'll do as you ask – but I'm not happy about it." He pouted playfully at her, which earned him a laugh. Her hand slipped from his cheek to his shoulder._

_Her hand began to wander lower, and suddenly she realized what she was doing. "Oh, Joseph. I..ehrm…well," she looked at his attire, and he finally realized that although he had managed to put on his robe, he had neglected to tie it. A wardrobe malfunction he became painfully aware of as she removed her hand from his body. "I'll let you get dressed."_

"_Yes, ma'am." He escorted her to his door. She hesitated for a moment, almost as if she wanted to say something, but then, left him to his solitude._

_Later that day, at the airport, it was a conglomeration of tears, fond farewells, and hugs goodbye. "Lilly, I look forward to having you visit this summer." She spoke to her granddaughter's friend. The young woman embraced the monarch in a friendly good-bye hug, one which Clarisse stiffly returned. "Helen, I'll see you in a few weeks too." Her former daughter-in-law embraced her with a hug and a peck on the cheek as well. Clarisse was very proud of herself. She had always been rather cloistered with her emotions, but as she began to embrace Mia as her granddaughter, she also began to embrace the thought of sharing some of her emotions. _

_As Clarisse turned to say goodbye to Mia, the young woman embraced her tightly and whispered "I'll see you in a few weeks grandma. I love you." Then placed a soft kiss on her cheek._

"_I'll see you in a few weeks. And…I love you too." Clarisse tried to return the young woman's affection, and gently kissed both sides of her cheeks. Clarisse was so caught-up in the moment of bidding fond farewells that what came next just seemed so natural. "Joseph, I'll see you in a few weeks too." She leaned over to hug him, which he returned a bit hesitantly. Then, as she was pulling back, she brushed the faintest of kisses across his lips. They both momentarily looked at each other, both shocked at what had just transpired. It wasn't anything sensual or sexual, it was just a friendly peck on the lips. One which, thankfully, appeared to be unnoticed by the rest of the group._

* * *

Her husband's soft timber broke her revere. "You know, I couldn't sleep for a whole week. Every time I closed my eyes, I kept re-living that moment. And the moment kept changing…"

She chuckled at his confession, then taunted with his phrase from earlier. "Serves you right, after invading my dreams." He laughed at her playful mood. "But our second one…that was _definitely_ your fault."

"_MY _Fault?" Joseph eyed her suspiciously. "I do believe, dear wife, that it was _your fault._"

* * *

_Joseph had returned from America with Amelia some three weeks after that fateful kiss. Clarisse had thought of nothing else on her plane trip home. But, once she became involved with the politics of Genovia, and the day-to-day running of a country, she easily pushed it from her mind. That was…until he returned._

_She had greeted Amelia and Helen in her suite, welcoming them to their new home. Joseph had joined them in greeting the queen, but she had refused to meet his eyes, still embarrassed about their little kiss out on the tarmac. The rest of the week had trudged along, with strained conversations and averted glances – all on her part. Clarisse just couldn't look him in the eye after what had happened. Even after a few attempts by Joseph to clear the air between them, she wouldn't let her guard slip. Finally, after a week and a half of short answers and being ignored, Joseph sought her out._

_Clarisse sat in the royal kitchen, nursing a late-night cup of tea. Sitting at the end of the table ensconced in her bathrobe, she sat lost in thought. She had been trying to relax herself enough to be able to sleep. She hadn't slept since Joseph had returned. Well, that wasn't true. She had slept – fitfully- since he returned. Her mind always dreaming of what "could have been" – what her mind thought their first kiss should have been. She would toss and turn with visions of candle-lit dinners, walks on the beach, kisses under the stars, Joseph whispering her name…_

"_Clarisse?"_

_She was startled to see her head of security, also clad in his bathrobe, entering the kitchen._

"_Oh, Joseph, I uh…" she looked at her cup of tea. "I was just leaving." She moved as if to get up from her seat, but his words stopped her._

"_No you weren't." She looked at him, something in her eyes beckoned him to her. Instead of asking to take a seat, as he normally would have, he sat at the table beside her and continued. "I came down here looking for you."_

"_Oh, well, here I am." She looked at the table. They sat in silence for a few moments before she realized he hadn't continued speaking. She looked at the wall opposite of him, took her mug of now-tepid tea in her hands and asked in a quiet voice. "Is there something you wanted?"_

"_Clarisse, I wanted to talk to you." He laid his hand on her arm resting on the table. She didn't react._

"_About what?" She tried to act nonchalant. Hoping against all hope that it _wasn't _what she was afraid to talk about._

_In a quiet voice, he replied, "I think you know what."_

_She slammed her tea-cup down in frustration, and this time succeeded in rising from the table. "I don't want to talk about that right now." _

"_Yes now!" He followed her in rising from the table. She moved to the stove, he followed her. She picked up the tea-kettle, trying to fill it with more water. He took it from her hands, replacing it back on the stove. He didn't want to give her a chance to cower away from what had been bothering her._

_She spun around in anger. The fury was evident in her eyes, but still, he didn't back down. "I said I didn't want to talk about it."_

"_Well, I do." _

"_It was an accident, it didn't mean anything. There, are you satisfied?" She looked at him with an air of righteousness about her, but there was also something else…something he couldn't put his finger on. _

"_It obviously meant something if it's standing in the way of our friendship." He was pushing her, he knew. But he had to know…did she feel the same way as he did?_

_She tried to leave; he blocked her path. "You're standing in my way, please let me though." She looked for an escape, there wasn't one. "Joseph, let me pass." Her voice was becoming weaker._

"_No." Panic – he could see it in her eyes. He didn't know if it was panic from him forcing her into capitulation, or panic from facing her fears. He hoped it was the later, but feared the former. "Clarisse, the only way you're escaping from here tonight is by discussing this with me, or by pushing your emergency button."_

_The words had barely left his lips before he saw her hand reach for the chain around her neck…one that was hidden by her clothing, but one he had given her years ago. To anyone else, it looked like a long necklace, but he knew…he knew that it kept a small button to alert security in case of emergency in the palace. Her fingers fumbled for the little charm…trying to find it. He implored her again. "Please, Clarisse, this is between you and me. Not between the Queen and her head of security." Her fingers stopped. He couldn't tell if she'd found the little charm, or if his words had stopped her._

"_Joseph…" She shook her head. She couldn't tell him…she couldn't ever tell him._

"_Clarisse, I…" he took a deep breath. Dare he confess what had been in his heart for years? He looked in her eyes, and decided he couldn't contain it any longer. "Clarisse I …" Her eyes searched his. Was she looking for an answer to his wild actions this evening? Was she looking to him for answers? Dare he?_

"_Joseph? What more is there to say? It happened, I can't take it back, let's move on." She was on the verge of tears, that much was evident to him. But there was something more – something that he hadn't ever seen in her eyes when she looked at him. There was hope._

"_I…"Discussions of what happened on San Francisco's tarmac flew from his mind. The woman of his dreams was standing before him, waiting for him to speak…waiting for an answer…and his voice failed him. _

"_I see, well…if you'll excuse me." He could see the hope dash from her eyes. She tried to push past him, and as he felt her walk by – he suddenly realized that he hadn't made good on his threat. She was leaving – and he still didn't have answers. He grabbed her arm…_

"_Clarisse?"_

"_What?" She didn't look at him._

_He pulled her back into the corner in which he had entrapped her earlier. Her scent wafted over him, her feminine curves wreaked havoc on his senses, her body…her body felt so soft and so good against his…and he forgot himself._

_She looked up at him, wanting to know what he was thinking. She was shocked to see his face coming towards hers. She opened her mouth in protest, but it died as he pressed his lips to hers. This kiss was different – it was on purpose, it was full of purpose, and it was wonderful._

_Clarisse melted against the counter as his lips continued to press against hers. She felt the hardness of the counter slowly ease away as his arms enveloped her and pulled her closer towards him. She went willingly. Her arms entwined around him, pulling him towards her, pulling herself towards her future. They both moaned as his kiss turned into another…and another…_

* * *

"You kissed me…so, how was it _my_ fault?" They stood in front of the mirror, drying off from their bath. She met his reflection's eyes.

"Because you, dear wife, were so damn irresistible." He swatted her bare bottom.

She turned from looking in the mirror, and eased herself between her husband and the mirror. She wrapped her arms around him and began nuzzling his chin. "You know, it's too bad that Shades interrupted us."

"I knew I should've fired him." They laughed at his little joke. "Exactly when did you push the button?"

"I didn't!" She exclaimed.

"Then why did he barge into the kitchen, gun drawn?" He nibbled at her nose.

"Because, my dear husband, that damn button was too sensitive. It went off when we were making out." She laughed.

"We _weren't_ making out…" His hands began to wander, refreshing his memory of his wife's glorious skin.

"Yes, we were." Her hands began to wander too.

"Clarisse, trust me, we weren't making out…we were…making up." He palmed her bare breast, delighting as he felt the nipple begin to tighten up.

"Oh, I see…and what do you call making out?" She began stroking him.

"What we did for your birthday that first year as a couple…"


	23. Making out

Greetings all. Apparently my muse hit the M button today, and she refused to let me leave the computer without writing M fiction. So, what had started out to be a PG chapter turned into a non-PG chapter. And thanks to Rach - she just added fuel to the fire. Many kudos to her for beta'ing this...even though I added more after she read it. I couldn't let her know the "cliff-hanger" this week before everyone else, could I?

And as far as the cliff-hangers go, I have to write that way. If not, me continuing to write wouldn't be a guarantee. This way, I HAVE to come back to the story to either finish the hanger or finish the story...lol. So, I'll go ahead and insert my "evil laugh" for the last line of this chapter. No, I don't have it planned out yet, or even thought of...that's the joy of the hanger. NONE of us know what my muse will be inspired by.

A few other notes - the "flashback" scene was sort-of inspired by a little snippet of "Who's the Boss". Don't know why - but it inspired my muse. There's also another line that is a paraphrase from "Victor/Victoria". Gotta love that movie! No infringement intended...only sex.

Ok, I think that's everything...enjoy!

* * *

"Mmmm, oh yes…oh yes…oh…ohhh…OHH!" Clarisse exploded as her husband brought her to release. Her legs pulled him closely to her, in a vice like grip, keeping him nestled inside of her while she quivered in delight. Through the haze of her orgasm, she realized that her husband hadn't found his own release. Her shout of joy had gone unanswered, and her husband's body was rigid against hers, straining to hold back the crescendo that it sought. She knew he needed to let go, and yet she admired his willpower. Easing the grip of her legs, she tried to adjust herself on her impromptu seat on the bathroom counter. Their playful stroking of each other a few minutes before had led to a glorious continuation of their activities from the morning.

Joseph looked down at his wife, noting how gloriously wonderful she looked. Her skin was flushed with heat – from the bath or from her orgasm he wasn't sure, but her smile – her smile was only for him. Sensing that she was ready to continue, he helped ease her to the edge of the counter again. The vice-like grip she had ensnared him with a few moments ago had been quite unexpected. He hadn't realized that she was so close to release, and only by sheer force had he held himself in check. He pulled her close to him, giving her the added support she needed as she precariously perched on the edge of the granite. He looked at her – her hair was mussed up, from his fingers as he'd kissed her, her gaze was a bit unfocused, from the orgasm he suspected, and her lips – her lips begged to be kissed, they were so plump and full. How could any man resist them? Answering their call, his hand slipped up into her hair and held her gently to him. He poured all of his love into that kiss, hoping that his wife knew everything that she meant to him. He felt her grip him again, but this time from within her body – asking him to continue what he had started. His body answered without hesitation. He began moving again, slowly easing in and out of her, betraying the faster speed that his body wanted. He felt her legs wrapping themselves around his, pulling him closer to her, her silent way of asking for a faster pace.

Clarisse broke from the kiss when she felt her husband resume their lovemaking. He was moving slowly – for her benefit she knew, but she wanted something different, something powerful, something…ferocious. Her muscles clenched around him again, holding and releasing him in synchronization to his movements – he upped the tempo a little bit, but still, continued to go slowly.

Joseph held back his body's need to pound mercilessly into his wife. Didn't she know what he was battling inside? The primal urge to possess her fully, the desire to hear his name screamed from her lips, to feel her give into her desires fully – he was doing his damndest not to take her like a ravaging animal. He felt her teeth tug at his ear, nipping at him, enticing him. He didn't know if he could hold himself in check much longer. And he wasn't at all sure how his wife would react if he gave himself over fully to the brutal side of his desire. Her nails dug into the slope of his buttocks, she was asking for more, but dare he? His lips found the sensitive skin of her neck, and he began brandishing wild kisses to her delicate skin. He knew that he would mark her tonight, but it would be a small price for her to pay – he needed something as an outlet for his desire. But then, suddenly, the dam of his emotions broke, his mind shut down, and his body took over when he heard his wife's command.

"Look at us Joseph, Look!" He pulled back from her neck and saw where her eyes were fixated. She was watching him as he made love to her. His eyes sought out what his wife was watching – his body slipping in and out of hers – the point of their desires caressing each other. His body forcing its way into hers – and hers accepting his, gripping them, and then releasing. It was too much for him. His body, which had been acquiescing to his demands for a slower pace, finally broke. He began moving faster, harder, pounding his body into hers. The sight of the two of them coming together and apart over and over drove his desire voracious new heights. He had to bring his body some relief.

Clarisse felt the change in her husband almost immediately. He began moving into her with vigor – sending tendrils of fire up her veins. THIS is what she had wanted, THIS is what she had needed – lust – pure and raw. She tried to pull him closer to her; he resisted. She looked to his eyes for an explanation, and found that he was still watching them below. She couldn't resist – she had to look too. It was beautiful - in and out, in and out, each time his retreat a little shorter than the last. She knew it wouldn't be long – his body could only take so much. She felt his arms encircle her, pulling her close to him – pulling his body even closer to hers. Her legs wrapped around him, his name escaped her lips.

"Joseph." He heard the whisper of his name, and it drove him on, into a frenzied pace. He wanted to hear her scream his name, not just whisper it. His lips found her neck again, this time biting her. He wanted her, he needed her, and he would have her.

Clarisse felt Joseph's teeth gnaw at her flesh –she delighted in feeling his raw magnetism. He moved faster, and then – then she felt his hand tweaking her into capitulation. It began as a stoke to the little bundle of nerves, "yes" she moaned. It encouraged him, he stroking her, and she forgot herself. "oh yes." In and out, his stroking coming in tandem with his movements. "Oh yes, yes, yes, yes…"

Hearing his wife – he knew that she was close, and still….still she hadn't screamed his name. He wanted her to, he wanted to hear it. "Clarisse…"

"Mmmm, oh yes!" Her voice was just above a whisper.

In, a stroke, out, a stroke, in, stroke, out, stroke

"Oh…yes, yes, yes, yes..oh!" She was becoming louder, lost in the mindlessness of their love.

Joseph was close, he knew, and still – he needed to hear it. "Clarisse…"

"Oh, Joseph…oh yes, Joseph, Yes, Joseph, Oh…" She was close to shouting, but wasn't there.

He wanted release, he needed release, and it was imminent. He stroked, he pushed himself, in and out. Then he arched his back, bent low and slid his mouth over her breast. He took the nipple between his teeth, teasing it slightly with his tongue.

"Oh Joseph, yes, yes, yes…"

He felt himself going over the crest…he pinched her…and bit down.

"JOSEPH!!" Her nails clawed at his back as she found her release, her legs wrapped fiercely around him, dragging him closer even as she tried to pull away. He continued to manipulate her breasts as her orgasm to a hold of her. She pulled him closer to her, thrusting her breast further into his mouth. He happily obliged her, then upped the ante by tweaking her neglected nipple while he continued his ministrations to her button of nerves. He felt her clench him again as he sent her over the edge again. Her joy was a primal scream that he'd never heard before; her mantra was his name passing over her lips in mindlessness.

* * *

"THAT was a little more than making out…" She felt her husband chuckle against her at her comment. His face was buried in her chest and his body sagged against her.

"Indeed." He placed a tender kiss on the tip of her breast, and then pulled back to look into his wife's shining eyes. His smile was quickly replaced by a frown when he saw the unmistakable red marks on her shoulder, neck, and chest some of them already taking on a purplish hue. "I…I'm sorry Clarisse." He gently stroked the places where his lips and teeth had left marks. Feeling her husband's fingers stroking her, Clarisse turned to look at her reflection in the mirror, to see what he was talking about.

There, all over her right shoulder were small lacerations on her skin. She was a bit tender, but it had been a small price to pay for the wonderful evening her husband had given her. She turned to look at him, the frown still marring his face. "It's all right…I honestly didn't know that they were even there." She looked down at her chest, noting that only one side had the tell-tale marks of their lovemaking. "Although, I do look a bit lop-sided, don't you think?" She laughed and leaned up to kiss him, her arms sneaking around his back. At his slight hiss, she pulled him closer to inspect his back. There were dozens of red lines all over his back…all equally spaced in groups of five. "Oh my love…let me see!" She tried to turn him around, to get a better look at her damage to him.

"I never felt a thing…only your love." He replied without moving from her embrace. The fact that she had had such a mindless need of him to scratch the hell out of his back did a lot for his ego. And it was true, although they were painful now, at the moment of infliction; he hadn't known what she was doing. He had been driven to madness by her – her sounds, her skin, HER.

"Hmm…well…" she kissed him. Although she knew that he would never admit it, she guessed that the scratches had to hurt. After all, she had been in the throes of orgasm as she had inflicted them upon him. And it had been glorious. "At least let me put some salve on it."

"Clarisse…"

"Joseph…" The tone she used demanded no arguments. 

"Mmmm…" His wife's fingers against his back were doing wonders for the slight amount of pain emanating from his back. He was lying on his stomach, spread-eagle on their bed. His wife was sitting on his posterior, gently massaging the soothing lotion onto the scratches. "That feels wonderful."

"mmm, I bet." Clarisse massaged her husband's back as she worked the salve into the red marks she had inflicted. She couldn't believe there were so many – and some of them were rather deep.

"Oh…right there…mmm" Clarisse worked on a particularly nasty looking scratch, and was struck with the irony of the situation.

She leaned over him and whispered in his ear. "You know…this reminds me of that birthday you were talking about, although the roles in the scenario are decidedly reversed."

* * *

_Clarisse had had a very long day. Between public appearances, a luncheon, and a ball in her honor that the prime minister insisted upon, Clarisse was absolutely exhausted. And the most frustrating thing about the day – she and Joseph hadn't had a moment alone together. Ever since her trip to America, things between them had changed – for the better. Whenever they were alone, something inside of her seemed to prickle with excitement. As of yet, they hadn't exactly declared what that relationship was – she wasn't sure that she knew what it was. It was decidedly more than friendship, but she was hesitant to call it a romance. She felt Joseph reach for her hand as he escorted her to her chamber. She had to smile at the simple gesture for them, it spoke volumes. Nearing her chamber, she noted that the customary footmen were nowhere to be seen. Joseph opened the doors for her and followed her inside. She turned to ask him a question, but fell silent as he spoke into his microphone._

"_The Eagle is retiring for the evening." He paused for a few moments, listening to the voice in his earpiece. "Yes, let me know if there's anything else."_

"_Joseph, is something…" she finally took in the surrounding room – it was aglow in firelight, and soft music was playing in the background. She turned to her escort for an explanation._

"_Happy birthday, Clarisse." His smile was genuine, and the twinkle in his eyes was irresistible. _

"_So, this is where you were this evening!" She had noted that Joseph had been absent from the festivities for much of the evening, much to her dismay._

"_Yes, I thought you might enjoy a private celebration."_

"_Oh Joseph, I…I don't know what to say."_

_He smiled at her awkwardness. He knew that tonight, tonight he would tell her what he had been wanting to say for months. Years. A lifetime. But not yet, no, she needed to be comfortable, and in his experience, it took a while to let the persona of the queen dissipate and allow Clarisse to shine through. "May I have this dance?" He extended his arm, and he saw her hesitate. Maybe even this was a bit too fast._

_Clarisse wanted to fall into his arms and dance all night, but the long day's activities had caused havoc on her feet. She had left the ball in anticipation of taking off her shoes. One of her simple pleasures in life – retiring for the evening and knowing that heels wouldn't have to be worn for the rest of the evening. She looked down at her formal attire, and suddenly felt very constrained. She had longed all day to spend time with Joseph, but being in a formal ball gown was just too cumbersome. "I would love to…but, let me slip into something more comfortable." Her eyes went wide with the suggestive nature of her comment. "I…oh, I mean…"_

"_No, by all means, I imagine that being in a formal dress isn't comfortable." He wanted to alleviate her fears about the evening. "If you don't mind, I think I'll rid myself of this monkey suit while you change." He gestured to his own attire._

"_I…yes, that would be fine."_

_Some ten minutes later, he returned to her suite just as she was opening the door from her bedroom. She looked divine. A simple v-neck sweater the color of her eyes and white slacks. She looked to be the epitome of comfortable. Her outfit mirrored his own, although his was completely black._

"_I believe you mentioned something about a dance?" She asked._

"_I did." He took her hand in his and led her to the middle of the room. He pulled her close and began swaying to the music. When that song ended, he easily segued them into the next, and then another. Each song slower than the last, each time he pulled her closer to him. Her scent was enchanting, the feel of her pressed against him was doing wondrous things to his body, and her lips…he couldn't resist any longer. He nudged closer to her, as if asking permission. She hesitantly granted him his request, and his lips softly touched hers. She pulled back slightly, he guessed he had moved too quickly. Maybe she hadn't relaxed enough for the evening to allow him to show her how he felt. He gently kissed her nose, which earned him a smile. "Clarisse, I have a confession to make."_

_She pulled back to look at him. "Oh?" _

"_I…I didn't get you anything for your birthday."_

_She laughed. "Oh Joseph. I don't need anything for my birthday. Having you here is a pleasure all by itself." She bit her tongue. 'Where had that come from? First the comment about slipping into something more comfortable, and now this? Must have been all the wine.' She thought. 'I need to put distance between us.' She walked over to the couch and sighed in relief as she finally sat down. She may have changed clothes, but going without her shoes, especially in front of Joseph, wasn't something she was ready to do._

_Hearing her sigh, he observed his queen. She looked happy enough, but definitely tired. She discretely rubbed her feet, and that's when the idea struck him. He walked over to her, and sat at the opposite end of the couch. "Give me your feet."_

_Her eyes went wide. "I beg your pardon?"_

_He leaned over and removed the shoe from her right foot. "I said, give me your feet." _

_Against her better judgment, she acquiesced. As she felt his hands begin to knead her aching feet, she couldn't help but feel a bit more relaxed. She turned on the couch to make herself more comfortable, resting her feet in his lap. As his hands began to work their magic on her, she closed her eyes, enjoying the sensations._

_Joseph smiled as Clarisse finally gave into the massage. Her moans of satisfaction were doing the most treacherous things to his libido, but a cold shower was a cheap price to pay for her pleasure. "mmmm" was his reward as his thumbs moved into her instep. "Oh yes" was her reply as he massaged her heels. "Oh Joseph, that's wonderful" as he worked her ankle. Joseph couldn't help but wonder is she was this vocal as she made love. His hand moved up to massage her calf. She had the most glorious legs, he wondered if it was from dancing, riding horses, or if she was just naturally toned that way. He took her foot in one hand and massaged her calf at the same time and was rewarded with an "Oh, I love you."_

_Time seemed to stand still for both of them. Her eyes immediately went wide as she realized what she had said. His hands stopped moving, had he heard her correctly? As she began to twist out of his grasp, he realized that he had, indeed, heard her correctly. She sat up, trying to regain her composure, but she wouldn't look at him. _

"_I – I mean..you, um..." She fought for words, trying to explain away her admission._

_Fearing that he might lose her forever if she managed to find a way to take back her words, he said the only thing he could, "I love you, too."_

_She looked at him, completely shocked by his confession. Suddenly, she was no longer alone in the world, she had someone, and he…he loved her. Tears filled her eyes as she realized the magnitude of their confessions. And yet, she felt more alone than she had ever been, they just couldn't do this. Fear plagued her. Fear of the unknown, fear of losing another loved one, fear of losing herself in him. "Joseph, I…we can't." Her voice was raspy with emotion. _

"_Clarisse…"He didn't want to know what she meant by saying that they couldn't._

_She struggled for an explanation that he'd understand, for an explanation that he'd believe. She couldn't tell him her fears, she couldn't let him see how vulnerable he made her. "Joseph, it's the monarchy. I…we can't afford publicity like this right now." She tried to move from the couch, trying to hide her heartbreak from him._

"_Clarisse, I'm not asking for publicity, I'm not even asking you to give up the monarchy…" He pleaded with her, hoping that she wouldn't end their relationship before it even began. "Clarisse, I want you, not your crown, not Genovia, you. All I'm asking for is your love."_

_Her voice breaking, she replied, "You have it." She couldn't lie to him, not now, maybe not ever._

"_Then, I will be content to keep this in the shadows until an appropriate time."_

"_Joseph, I couldn't ask you to do that…"_

"_You're _not _asking me to. Clarisse, I love you, do you understand that? I LOVE you, and I will do whatever is in my power to make you happy."_

_How could she resist him? Somewhere, somehow, the queen became locked in a tower, and Clarisse the woman responded to the man with whom she was in love. She pulled him to her and kissed him, hard._

_The hunger in her actions was evident, the need was strong, and Joseph couldn't resist. He leaned her down against the couch, his lips never leaving hers. She pulled him atop of her, pulling him closer to her than he had ever been before. She felt his tongue against her lips and quickly granted permission. He tasted heavenly, like nothing she'd ever tasted before, and yet, like something that she always knew. _

_Joseph was in heaven. The woman of his dreams, the woman of his fantasies was finally his. It didn't matter that they would have to keep it a secret, it didn't matter that she was scared. All that mattered was that she loved him. Had this been any other woman, he was sure that they would end up in bed together. But this wasn't 'any' woman, this was Clarisse. He wasn't quite sure how to proceed from here. She seemed to be the one calling the shots, the one kissing him, the one pulling him to her, the one…he groaned. _

_Clarisse wanted more. She wasn't sure how much more she wanted, but this wasn't enough. She found Joseph's hand that was gripping her hip. She took his hand in hers, and eased it up over her sweater, her target and intent clear. As his hand caressed her for the first time, mutual groans of satisfaction resounded in the room. She squeezed his hand and pushed herself into his caress, groaning at the feel of his hard hand. _

_The malleable flesh that was beneath his hand was like silk. It didn't matter that the barrier of her clothing was between his palm and her skin, it was heaven. He gave a tentative squeeze again, and this time was rewarded with a groan of his name._

_And then, the most horrific sound that he had ever heard invaded his haven. Shades in his earpiece was asking for his supervisor to respond to a request. Joseph wanted to cry out in frustration. Here he was, finally alone with Clarisse, and was again interrupted by his second in command. He tore his lips from her neck in frustration, and seeing her questioning eyes, responded with an apology. Sometimes he wondered if the man had a knack for interrupting at the most inopportune times._

* * *

"That was one of the best birthdays I'd ever had."

"Hmm, me too." Came his soft timber from below her.

She smacked him playfully. "It wasn't even your birthday." Sensing that he wanted to turn over, she lifted herself slightly from atop him. Once he had turned over, she resettled herself upon him.

"No, but it was a hell of a lot of fun." He looked up at her with merriment in his eyes. "Do you know that in the six years that we've been together, that was one of the few times we ever made out?"

"Well, I'm sorry dear. But being queen does take a lot out of a woman." She looked down at his bare chest and added playfully. "Besides, if you had told me how good you were in bed, it might have sped things along."

They both laughed at her comment. "You know, with you, it was never about sex. You do know that, don't you?"

"I do." She became silent as she thought about his question. She did know that it was more than just sex between them, and yet, she knew that she longed to be with him every minute of every day. Their love was so strong that at time, it was just too overpowering. The desire to be with each other had lead to many different impromptu places for them.

But their good fortune of never being caught during one of their spur-of-the-moment rounds of making love was soon coming to an end.


	24. Man, Interrupted

"Just a moment." Clarisse's voice was muffled through the bedroom door. Shades stood on the other side of the former Queen's chamber door waiting for her emergence. Hearing the occupants of the room quickly shuffling around he wondered exactly what he had interrupted. But then again, he _really_ didn't want to know.

"Ow!" Joseph cried out in pain as he stubbed his toe on the bed.

"Shhh!" Clarisse admonished him as she tried to button up her jacket. "He'll hear you."

"Well, I'm sorry, but it hurt." He began adjusting himself as he zipped up his pants.

"How do I look? Presentable?" His wife looked more than presentable, she looked ravishing. Joseph couldn't help himself, he was totally and completely in love with his wife. Even now, as they approached their one year anniversary, he wanted her with the same ferocity that he had for the past decade. Time together had only increased his desire for his wife, every time they made love, he wanted more, needed more. Being sated was only a physical state for him, mentally, he would always want her – need her.

Unfortunately, royal life didn't always coincide with his desires for his wife. This afternoon being a case in point. Clarisse had informed him that she was planning on visiting the orphanage that afternoon and asked for him to accompany her. He had gladly accepted her invitation, and as a "reward" for his actions, she had given him a kiss. A kiss which he promptly turned into something more – something that she whole-heartedly accepted. Clothes had just started being removed when Shades had knocked on the door telling her majesty that the car would be ready in five minutes. And thus, the marathon of re-dressing had begun.

"Yes, you look..." he couldn't say wonderful, he couldn't even say ravishing. She looked absolutely beguiling to him. Her light pink skirt and suit jacket did nothing for the heated tone of her skin. There was a flush to her cheeks and a haze in her eyes that made him wonder how either of them would make it through the afternoon surrounded by prying eyes. "delicious." There was no other word for it – at least none that he would chance having his former second in command of overhearing.

"Oh well…" the flush on her cheeks became a dark crimson. "shall we?"

* * *

The trip to the orphanage had been wonderful. Mia, as queen, had definitely put a lot of effort into the adoption of orphans, and the children in the home who hadn't been adopted were thriving. All in all, it had been a productive afternoon – hearing the children's desires, hopes, and dreams and devising ways to fulfill the young one's desires. But at the moment, Joseph was in the mood to fill his own desire. His interrupted afternoon tryst with his wife had left him with a terrible ache for her. Finding the inner door to her office open, and Charlotte nowhere to be seen, he slipped into his wife's office and shut the door.

"Oh Charlotte, I need to…"

"It's not Charlotte." He answered his wife as he turned the lock to the double doors.

"Joseph?" Clarisse turned around from her bookshelf and was surprised to see her husband approaching her desk. "Is anything the matter?"

"No, nothing's the matter." He approached her stealthily.

"Then what…" Her question was cut off by his lips pressing against hers.

"I believe, my dear wife, that we were rudely interrupted earlier today." His arms encircled her, pulling her close to him.

"Well, yes, but…" Again, her words were stopped by his probing lips. She felt his hands slip underneath her jacket, his fingers warm against her skin.

"Clarisse" he groaned her name as he found the clasp to her bra. His lips began moving, up along her jaw. His beard prickling her skin, his tongue soothing the small abrasions.

"Charlotte?" Clarisse knew the young woman was working with her today on some last minute items for Mia.

Combating his wife's ingrained desire to work, his mouth darted for her weak spot . "Not at her desk." His lips nibbled at the freckled skin just below her ear.



Joseph wasn't fighting fair. Clarisse knew she needed to complete her work, and yet, her husband was doing the most delicious things to her neck. She had to fight, she had to stop him…she knew she couldn't stop herself. "The doors…"

And then she gave up the fight with his one word answer "locked." Her groan of capitulation was music to his ears. He pressed her against the bookshelf, needing for her to feel his arousal, for her to know how strong his desire was. His hands moved under her jacket to cup her breasts. They were so soft, so full, so…"Clarisse." The pebbled nipples pierced his palms. He kissed her savagely, robbing her of her breath. He felt her fingers fumbling to release him. He needed her, he needed to consume her.

He pulled back from her, watching as she maintained her balance by leaning against the shelves, her chest heaving. The shelves were filled with books upon books of stories about love, love lost, love found, requited, unrequited, and yet, words failed to describe his wife at the moment. She was so open to him, so available, so…seductive. He needed her, he wanted her, NOW.

He turned to the desk behind him, and seeing that it was scattered with papers, he quickly shoved them off the desk. Sending papers flying everywhere, books crashing to the floor, picture frames teetering on the edge of the desk. Clarisse eyed her scattered work somewhat whistfully, but then Joseph reached behind him, blindly grabbing for her and she came willingly. He pulled her to him, and eased her against the edge of the desk, helping her ever so slightly to lift herself up. He felt her legs wrap around his, pulling him closer to her. His fingers found the buttons to her jacket, and he made quick work of them. The bra that he had unclasped earlier hung limply from her shoulders, she pulled it off frantically. Joseph's mouth watered at the sight of the hard, round, red protrusions that had pierced his palms earlier. He needed to feel them again, to taste them. He ducked, taking one into his mouth, his hand finding the other one.

Clarisse held Joseph to her. She loved it when he tended to her like this. She loved feeling his tongue, his teeth, his beard – all pleasing her. His hand pinched her right nipple and she moaned "yes!"



"Your Majesty?" She heard Charlotte's voice and it took her a moment to realize what it was. The intercom…the damn phone – she hadn't put it on 'do not disturb.' Feeling her husband pause in his ministrations, her fingers fumbled for the button.

She tried to calm her voice, to make herself sound as natural as possible. "Yes?"

"Ma'am, Prime Minister Motaz is here to see you." The young woman informed her, unaware of what she was interrupting.

That got Joseph's attention. He knew his wife would meet with the man, his need for copulation would have to wait.

"Thank you Charlotte." Clarisse was trying to get off her desk and find her missing garments.

"I'll show him in."

"No!" Clarisse almost yelled. But queens, or even former queens, don't yell. They merely raise their voices. "Er…what I mean is, would you please have tea set up in the garden?"

"Yes ma'am."

"I'll be with him shortly." And the connection was cut. Clarisse had to chuckle at the absurdity of the day. First, their morning romp had been cut short by the maids trying to clean the room, then Shades this afternoon, and now Charlotte. It seemed as if she and her husband were destined not to make love that day.

Her husband grumbled. "It's not funny Clarisse!"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. But it is sort of funny." She began buttoning her jacket.

"Damn it, why couldn't he have shown up an hour later?" He sat down in the chair, trying to calm himself. "He has horrible timing."

Clarisse just smiled at her husband's bad mood. Yes, the prime minister had 'bad timing' but it wasn't his fault. How was he to know that the former queen was getting 'serviced' by her husband? Clarisse moved to the mirror, and tried to adjust her hair. She spoke over her shoulder "Darling, you could pick a better time for us to make love. You really have been 'off' today in your choices."

His grumbled reply could have been funny, if he hadn't struck a nerve with her. "Or you could initiate on occasion. It's not my fault that I don't know your schedule now."



As soon as the words had left his mouth, he regretted them. But, he couldn't take them back, and it _was_ an issue that he had. Granted, this wasn't the time to discuss it, but the words were out now, and there was no going back.

Clarisse turned from the mirror, her eyes cold. "I see, well. If you will excuse me?" And she left him. Not a 'goodbye' not an argument, nothing. Joseph couldn't believe it. Since when did Clarisse back away from an argument?

As the door shut, he knew that he would have to make amends, but for the life of him he didn't know how. "Damn it!"

* * *

It had been a quiet few days around the palace. The staff didn't know what had happened between their former queen and her husband, but something obviously had. Whenever Clarisse and Joseph argued, the palace felt it. It wasn't often that it happened, but when it did, the palace was the last place anybody wanted to be.

Clarisse sat on the couch in her office, absently looking out the window. She and Joseph had let this fester for too long. How could he know that his words had cut her like a knife? 'How could he not know?' the voice inside her head asked. He had accused her of not initiating much of their sex-life. And, to her dismay, he was right. She _didn't_ initiate – wasn't that _his_ job? Rupert had always approached her for sex – letting her know that morning that he'd be joining her that evening. It gave her plenty of time to be ready for him. And Joseph? Joseph didn't tell her, he just did. Anywhere and anytime she had to be ready for him. 'You don't _have_ to do anything, you _want_ to.' Her mind screamed. And it was true. With Joseph, it had never been sex – well, not after their honeymoon, she conceded. In the month prior to their honeymoon, it had been sex. Pure and simple. Joseph had tired his damndest to break through her stoic queenly façade, trying to get her 'in the mood' by music, flowers, champagne, to little avail. In the midst of what she now realized was foreplay, she would always close herself off. 

She wouldn't allow herself to feel excitement, to feel aroused, to feel anything. And Joseph, bless him, had tried, he really had. After his third attempt, she had been shocked that he had left the bed in search of a shower. It wasn't anything new – she would seek out a shower also, but it was her discovery of what he did in the shower that shocked her. He would find his release there, in the warm water, not in her. That was the last time they had argued, nearly a year ago. And he had been right then too.

He had told her that he couldn't feel right about finding his release within her if she didn't sense pleasure. She had tried to assure him that she did find it pleasurable, she was his wife, and it was her duty. They had argued well into the night that evening, and he had come to her later the next day with the idea for a honeymoon. He had told her that if, after he was done with her, she didn't re-evaluate what pleasure and making love meant, then he wouldn't press the issue ever again.

He'd taken her away from the palace, away from the demands, away from it all. And she'd found pleasure in her husband, a new understanding of making love, and the ability to thoroughly enjoy her husband's attentions. He had been right almost a year ago, and, he was right now. "Damn" she hated when he was right. Or more precisely, when she was wrong.

Joseph received a note from Charlotte, from his wife. He almost crumpled it up. For the past three days there had been nothing but silence between them. He had tried to make amends that evening after her tea with the Prime Minister, but when she wouldn't acknowledge him, he gave up. That was three days ago. 'Three days, one hour, and 23 minutes to be precise' he thought. This was no way to live, no way to be married. They needed to talk through their problems, not ignore them. They hadn't slept apart, but it felt like she was a million miles away. It felt very much like their first month of marriage to him. She would sleep on her side of the bed, he on his, the two rarely meeting. After their honeymoon, there hadn't been sides of the bed – it had only been them cuddled together, and it had been wonderful. Joseph looked at the note in his hand and flipped it open.

_Please join me at the stables for a ride this afternoon at 4:00. Me_

His mind began to wonder if this was her olive branch. Would she apologize, or expect him to? And did he want to? 'Yes' he thought. 'But, I'm not wrong!' followed immediately behind that thought. And he wasn't wrong. He could count on one hand the number of times over the past year his wife had initiated making love. It was practically always him. He who seduced her, he who had to go to her and entice her into playing hokey, he who did everything. He looked down at his watch and realized it was later than he thought. He made his decision.

Clarisse stood just inside one of the stalls in the stable. Could she do this? 'Yes' Did she want to do this? 'yes'. Would he be surprised? 'Definitely.' She heard someone approaching. "Joseph?"

"Clarisse? Where are you?" Joseph heard her voice but couldn't see her.

"I'm in the last stall, please join me." She took a deep breath. 'It's now or never' she thought. Her husband walked past her into the empty stall. He turned in confusion as he heard the door slam shut.

"Clarisse"

Clarisse looked at her husband through lowered lashes as she ever so slowly swatted the riding crop against her open palm. Her gaze smoldered as her eyes made their way up and down his body. She licked her lips as the crop made a final snap against her riding gloves. Seeing that she had her husband's full attention, she tossed the small whip to him.

"Clarisse, what are you doing?" He swallowed as grasped the crop in midair.

Her hands found their way to the buttons of her jacket as she answered him soflty. "Initiating."

* * *

Ok, so as I look back over this chapter, let's go over the apparent inspirations. "The Mirror Has Two Faces" and episode of "Coach". They're both about 1 line big in here, but just in case - I gotta say "no infringement meant."

Thanks to Rach - you rock...now, go get a massage. Bwahahahaha.

Sandra - I will beta again soon...as soon as my muse goes CJ cold.

And everyone else, thanks for reading, reviewing, and enjoying.


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